| | G | | | G |
G7 | |
I | ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more. |
No, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more. |
Well, I wake in the morning, fold my hands and |
pray for rain. |
I got a head full of ideas that are drivin’ me insane. |
Em | D7 | ||
It’s a | shame | the way she makes me scrub the | floor. |
G7 | ||
Oh, I | ain | ’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more. |
| | G | | | G | | | G | | | G |
G7 | |
I | ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more. |
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more. |
Well, he hands you a nickel, he hands you a dime, |
He asks you with a grin if you’re havin’ a good time, |
Em | D7 | ||
Then he | fine | s you for every time you slam the | door. |
G7 | ||
I | ain | ’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more. |
| | G | | | G | | | G | | | G |
G7 | |
I | ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more. |
No, I aint gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more. |
Well, he puts his cigar out in your face just for kicks. |
His bedroom window it is made out of bricks. |
Em | D7 | ||
The | Nati | onal Guard stands around his | door. |
G7 | ||
Ah, I | ain | ’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more. |
| | G | | | G | | | G | | | G |
G7 | |
I | ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more. |
No, I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more. |
Well, she talks to all the servants about man and |
God and law. |
Everybody say’s she’s the brains behind pa. |
Em | D7 | ||
She’s | sixt | y-eight, but she says she’s fifty- | four. |
G7 | ||
I | ain | ’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more. |
| | G | | | G | | | G | | | G |
G7 | |
I | ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more. |
No, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more. |
Well, I try my best to be just like I am, |
But everybody wants you to be just like them. |
Em | D7 | |||
They say | sing | while you slave and I just get | bore | d. |
G7 | ||
I | ain | ’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more. |
| | G | | | G | | | G | | | G | Fade Out |