Lyrics The Hand That Feeds -

The Hand That Feeds

I’ve seen good men spoiled
Chained to their jobs like hounds
They work and sleep and work again
In the darkest nights they howl
Their cries are a warning
To everyone following
No man should stand to work all of his days
And have nothing at the end of them
I got no money but the change
That jingles in my pockets
Reminding me how little I have
And there’s for times I am
Powerless to stop it
Keeps rambling on like a man, wandering man
My papa was a howling man
Traded in his youth
Sold his dreams and all of his days
For the great American ruse
And my dear papa gave me
Lessons in regret
He said all that he’d done would be for nothing
If I followed in his steps
I got no money but the change
That jingles in my pockets
Reminding me how little I have
And there’s for times I am
Powerless to stop it
Keeps rambling on like a man, wandering man
My papa taught me how to howl
How to bear my teeth and growl
He taught me that the hand that feeds
Deserves to be bitten when it beats
He taught me how to break my chains
And that money ain’t worth a thing
And that no man should get
More of my time than me
I may never be a rich man
But I can make sure I am free
I may never be a rich man
The rich man will never have me, never have me
I may never be a rich man
But I can make sure I am free
I may never be a rich man
The rich man will never have me, never have me
I got no money but the change
That jangles in my pockets
Reminding me how little I have
But there’s for time, there’s for time
Is mine, is mine