Well isn't it sad, and hopeless, too,
There isn't much that we can do.
The ones up there, they got it all
By the tail on a down hill haul.
Chorus:
They got the power, they've got the press,
They've got the banks, the stocks and all the rest,
They've got everything,
They've got everything,
But you and me.
They've got the rats, they've got the finks,
A little cash, a couple drinks,
They've got the world, it's theirs for free,
They've got everything but you and me.
(Chorus)
Well, all they've got is mighty fine,
It all is theirs and none of mine,
But there's one lot they cannot buy,
And without that they kick and cry.
(Chorus)
They need us all to wear their brand,
But then a few get out of hand,
And more and more move out of line--
That IBM goes out of its mind.
(Chorus)
That superjob don't work so good
If we don't act the way we should,
They need us all right in our place,
But we keep moving our own ways.