Up every mornin' just to keep my job
I gotta fight my way through the hustling mob
Sounds of the city poundin' in my brain
While another day goes down the drain
(yeah, yeah)
But it's a five o'clock world when the whistle blows
No one owns a piece of my time
And there's a five o'clock me inside my clothes
Thinkin' that the world looks fine, yeah
(SCAT: oh-de-lay-ee-ee, etc)
There ain't enough time for the pay I get
I'm livin' on money that I ain't earned yet
I've been goin' tryin' just to make my way
But I live for the end of the day
(yeah, yeah)
Writer(s): Allen Reynolds
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