'Cross the street a sign he read,
"Work for Jesus" so it said,
And he said, "Here is my chance, I'll surely try,"
And he kneeled upon the floor,
'Till his knees got rather sore,
But at eating-time he heard the preacher cry—
Down the street he met a cop,
And the copper made him stop,
And he asked him, "When did you blow into town?
Come with me up to the judge,"
But the judge he said, "Oh fudge,
Bums that have no money needn't come around."
Finally came that happy day
When his life did pass away,
He was sure he'd go to heaven when he died,
When he reached the pearly gate,
Santa Peter, mean old skate,
Slammed the gate right in his face and loudly cried:
WHADDA YA WANT TO BREAK YOUR BACK FOR THE BOSS FOR?
(Tune: "What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For?")
Toiling along in light from morn 'til night,
Wearin' away your all for the Parasite;
Working' like a mule with a number two,
Puffin' like a bellows when the day is through;
Steering a load of gravel through the muck and slop
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