When I was a young man (as all good tales begin)

I was taught to hold out my hand

And for my pay I worked an honest day

and took what pittance I could win

Now I'm a working John and I'm a working Joe

and I'm doing what I know

for God and the Economy--

Big brother watches over me

And the state protects and feeds me

And my conscience never leaves me

And I'm loyal to the unions

who protect me at all levels



And as I grew, the winds of fortune blew

and the bank smiled down upon me

And mortgaged to the hilt I threw

the winds of caution behind me

Now I'm a working John and I'm a working Joe

and I'm good at what I know

And God and the Economy

have blessed me with equality

Now I'm equal to the best of you

And better than the rest of you

who would criticise my success

in times of national unrest



Now I own my horseless carriage

in its central-heated garage

And I commute eighty miles a day--

up at seven to make it pay

I direct ten limited companies

with seeming consummate expertise

two ulcers and a heart disease

a trembling feeling in both knees--

I'm a working John and I'm a working Joe