Текст песни Poverty

Up every morning with the sun, I work all day 'til the evening comes Busters and corns all in my hands Lord, have mercy on a working man I guess I'm gonna die, just like I live, in poverty My pay goes down and my tax goes up I drink my tea from a broken cup Between my woman and uncle Sam, I can't figure out just what I am I guess I', gonna die, just like I live, in poverty Oh Lord, it's so hard