Maggie's Farm - Live at the Hollywood Bowl, Los Angeles, CA - September 1965

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 up in the morning
 Fold my hands and pray for rain.
 I got a head full of ideas
 That are drivin' me insane.
 It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.
 I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.
 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
 Then he fines you every time you slam the door.
 I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.
 I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.
 No, I ain't 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.
 The National Guard stands around his door.
 Ah, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.
 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 says
 She's the brains behind pa.
 She's sixty-eight, but she says she's twenty-four.
 I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.
 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.
 They sing while you slave and I just get bored.
 I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.