Songs about hating your job

[Dr_Evil_Mouse]

Life Sentence - Dead Kennedys

[bouche]

I've been working on the Railroad - traditional

I've been working on the railroad

All the livelong day

I've been working on the railroad

Just to pass the time away

Can't you hear the whistle blowing

Rise up so early in the morn

Can't you hear the captain shouting

Dinah, blow your horn

Dinah, won't you blow

Dinah, won't you blow

Dinah, won't you blow your horn

Dinah, won't you blow

Dinah, won't you blow

Dinah, won't you blow your horn

Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah

Someone's in the kitchen I know

Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah

Strumming on the old banjo, and singing

Fie, fi, fiddly i o

Fie, fi, fiddly i o

Fie, fi, fiddly i o

Strumming on the old banjo

[Blane]

Surprised it hasn't been mentioned yet:

I row the boat- Bob Wiseman

I row the boat

I row the boat

I break my back

For the dollar bill note

[Booche]

My favorite,

Off To Sea Once More

When first I came to Liverpool

I went upon a spree

Me money alas I spent too fast

Got drunk as drunk could be

And when my money was all gone

'Twas then I wanted more

But a man must be blind to make up his mind

To go to sea once more

I spent the night with Angeline

Too drunk to roll in bed

My watch was new and my money too

In the mornin' with 'em she fled

And as I roamed the streets about

The whores they all would roar

Here comes Jack Rack, the young sailin' lad

He must go to sea once more

As I was walkin' down the street

I met with Rapper Brown

I asked for him to take me in

And he looked at me with a frown

He said "Last time you was paid off

With me you jobbed no score

But I'll take your advance and I'll give ya's a chance

And I'll send you to sea once more

I hired me aboard of a whaling ship

Bound for the Artic seas

Where the cold winds blow through the frost and the snow

And Jamaican rum would freeze

And worst and bear I'd no hard weather gear

For I'd lost all my money ashore

'Twas then that I wished that I was dead

So I'd gone to sea no more

Some days we're catching whales me lads

And some days we're catching none

With a twenty foot oar cocked in our hands

From four o'clock in the morn

And when the shades of night come in

We rest on our weary oar

'Twas then I wished that I was dead

Or safe with the girls ashore

Come all you bold seafarin' men

And listen to my song

If you come off of them long trips

I'd have ya's not go wrong

Take my advice, drink no strong drink

Don't go sleeping with no whores

Get married lads and have all night in

So you'll go to sea no more

[TomFoolery]

Del - I love that song. One of my all time favs!

How about...

Proud Mary - Creedence

Not hating the job, but similar vein.

[arcane]

"Welcome to the Machine"--Pink Floyd

"Car Wash"--Rose Royce

"Nine to Five"--Dolly Parton

"White Collar Holler"--Stan Rogers

To me, this acapella tune is the quintessential "I ain't gonna let my soul-numbing job break me" song: http://stanrogers.lyrics-online.net/WhiteCollarHoller.html

WHITE COLLAR HOLLER

Well, I rise up every morning at a quarter to eight

Some woman who's my wife tells me not to be late

I kiss the kids goodbye, I can't remember their names

And week after week, it's always the same

And it's Ho, boys, can't you code it, and program it right

Nothing ever happens in the life of mine

I'm hauling up the data on the Xerox line

Then it's code in the data, give the keyboard a punch

Then cross-correlate and break for some lunch

Correlate, tabulate, process and screen

Program, printout, regress to the mean

Then it's home again, eat again, watch some TV

Make love to my woman at ten-fifty-three

I dream the same dream when I'm sleeping at night

I'm soaring over hills like an eagle in flight

Someday I'm gonna give up all the buttons and things

I'll punch that time clock till it can't ring

Burn up my necktie and set myself free

Cause no'one's gonna fold, bend or mutilate me.

[bradm]

That reads like it was written by my Dad.

Aloha,

Brad

[TomFoolery]

That is the song that made me fall in love with Stan Rogers' music.

I can't fucking stand that goddamned long-winded over-played pub-scum chanting Barret's Privateers.

White Collar Holler is GOLD. Thanks for reminding me!

[arcane]

On the humourous side, "Domino Death" by Tom Smith ( http://www.tomsmithonline.com/lyrics/domino_death.htm ):

Well, the pizza biz ain't what it used to be,

It's a dangerous job for a boy like me.

Jay-walkers stare like you lost your mind,

Speed-traps ahead of you, muggers behind.

I've been robbed eight times at somebody's door,

I'm mad and I ain't gonna take no more,

So the next time somebody goes for the cash,

I've got a turret-mounted laser wired up to the dash.

Domino Death, we're gonna have some fun,

Domino Death, you better duck and run,

Domino Death, you better do your best,

Or I'll deliver you to Hell in thirty minutes or less.

I've got an armor-plated van with a Teflon sheen,

A Plexiglas windshield, Polaroid green,

Bullet-proof tires with a Kevlar mesh,

And a hotbox to keep your pepperonis fresh.

I've got an on-board computer to do my math,

A big cow-catcher to clear my path,

And I'll fry the brains of anyone I miss --

I've got a tape of Frank Sinatra singing Grace Jones and KISS.

Domino Death, I'm crazy as Hell,

Domino Death, I hope you tip real well,

Domino Death, you better watch for me,

And if you manage to survive, you get the pizza for free.

Well, you can beg and plead, but it's just no use,

I'm over the edge, I don't need an excuse,

I'll blow off your head for getting double cheese,

And I wouldn't say, "NO ANCHOVIES, PLEASE."

I keep the streets empty night and day,

Fire trucks and funerals get out of my way.

Now I'm looking around to see who I've missed,

And I guess Little Caesar's is next on the list.

Domino Death, it's no big loss,

Domino Death, you'd better love the sauce,

Domino Death, just give us a call,

We're courteous and friendly -- like Steven Seagal.

Domino Death, I've got a double for you,

Domino Death, I'll get your roommate ('family', 'neighbors', pick one), too,

Domino Death, you'll go like the rest,

I'll deliver you to Hell in thirty minutes or less...

Or... else... it's... free!

Another from Tom Smith, "The Worst Job There Is," isn't humourous, and you gotta admit that the job sucks ( http://www.tomsmithonline.com/lyrics/worst_job.htm ):

In all things there must be balance, said my physics prof to me,

And in the days of sailing ships, the ballast was the key,

Some sand and garbage in the bilge are all you need at sea,

But things work slightly differently when you turn in zero-gee.

The ballast must be accurate to ten places, maybe more,

Whether you are dodging asteroids or just going to the store.

When the spaceships first used ballast, they tried everything in sight,

And inert materials at first worked out all right,

But when spaceships first went past light-speed, the laws of physics changed,

Gravitation pulled unequally, several ships were... rearranged.

They finally discovered that the ballast must float free,

To go where it's most needed -- so the ballast now is me.

I tried to be a Space Marine, but they wouldn't let me go,

My vision was myopic, my reflexes way too... slow,

And all my dreams of Space Marines and interstellar fame

Were dashed to Hell by defects in my undernourished frame,

But still I made it into space, although my job is dull,

For now I serve as ballast sealed up inside the hull.

Now inert, unliving ballast will not do the job -- instead,

They've got me in a Kevlar jumpsuit, pockets lined with lead,

The hyperdrive computer says where we'll need extra mass,

We accelerate to F.T.L. and inertia kicks my ass,

I bounce around between the seams, grabbing anything at hand,

Like a plane whose one wing tears and falls, the ballast wants to land.