By Kevin Fowler At eight Monday mornin' I'm in my bed asleep Well now no bell ringin' thing tellin' me it's time to hit the street Oh No, don't you knock on my door 'cause I ain' a-comin' Tell the bossman I quit or I died or something I'm doin' all those things I always said I wanted to do I don't want no J.O.B. bringin' me Down like a damn dog to my knees All work and no play ain't no way for me to live Well now my days too short, I ain't got no time I got one life, it's a-goin'-a be mine Livin' wild and free, don't want no J.O.B. Well now the landlord's a-knockin, oh, I'm in one helluva mess Yea and I just got a letter from the folks at the IRS Well now the bills are piled high and the grass needs a-mowin Think I'll jump in my truck and just keep on going Find me a place where the drinks are free And the pretty girls all love me Chorus Seems all I ever do is work these fingers to the bone If this is all that life can offer, I'd rather be dead and gone Chorus
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