Some clichty folks don`t know the facts, posin` and preenin` and puttin` on acts, stretchin` their backs. They move into condos up over the ranks, pawn their souls to the local banks. Buying big cars they can`t afford, ridin` around town actin` bored. If they want to learn how to live life right they ought to study me on Saturday night. My job at the plant ain`t the biggest bet, but I pay my bills and stay out of debt. I get my hair done for my own self`s sake, so I don`t have to pick and I don`t have to rake. Take the church money out and head cross town to my friend girl`s house where we plan our round. We meet our men and go to a joint where the music is blue and to the point. Folks write about me. They just can`t see how I work all week at the factory. Then get spruced up and laugh and dance And turn away from worry with sassy glance. They accuse me of livin` from day to day, but who are they kiddin`? So are they. My life ain`t heaven but it sure ain`t hell. I`m not on top but I call it swell if I`m able to work and get paid right and have the luck to be Black on a Saturday night.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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