Every day is a Monday  In the house up on the hill  They're taking out the windows  But we're working up there still  Till the sun goes down  You can hear the wheels go round  And I'll slave away  Saving all I can  Till then I'm working  Working for the fat man  Looking out the window  As I dream any colored dreams  Swaying to the rhythm  Of the sound of the machines  Till the sun goes down  You can hear the wheels go round  Between you and me  I've taken all I can  But I'm still working  Working for the fat man  I'm never going to work  I'm never going to work for that fat man again  But I'm stuck on the line  Stuck on the line till I'm sixty-five  Hey look out jack  Going to break your back  And your face will sag  And your bones will crack  Till they send you down  For a couple of years  In shadow town  Living without breathing  Isn't everything it seems  Swaying to the rhythm  Of the sound of machines  Till the sun goes down  You can hear the wheels go round  And I'll slave away  Saving all that I can  Till then I'm working  Working for the fat man