Sunday's Slave
Sunday's got a slaveMonday's got one tooSunday's got a slaveMonday's got one tooOur sufferings are countlessOur pleasures are motley fewSpend all day digging my graveNow go get Sunday's slave
Tuesday sleeps in a stableWednesday's in a chainsTuesday gathers up the crumbs under the tableWednesday dare not complainMy heart has collapsed on the tracks of a runaway trainJust whisper his nameAnd here comes Sunday's slave
The hands in the stable are willing and able to payIf you feel at a loss, man, just who is the boss-manAsk the blood of one of its bad daysFor his nerve is to serve but the sevice is a mockeryHe insists that he piss in your fistBut he still takes the money anywayThe master's a bastardBut don't tell Sunday's slave
Thursday's angered the masterO.K. so Friday's gonna payThursday's angered the masterYeah, so Friday's gonna payOne night on the rack and he's back saddling up SaturdayYou can only whisper his nameBut not on SundaysNever on SundaysOh not on Sunday's slave