Mad in America an anthem for the American Worker

Mad in America
Song Lyrics

© Copyright Dube/Pitchell 2007

Grandfather worked in a Kitchen, making bread out of flour and wheat.
Right off the boat from Finland, to live in the land of the free.
He was workin them ovens, sweating in summer’s heat.
On the floor from one till midnight, seven days a week.
And grandma told him, you’d better slow down, he didn’t pay her no mind.
If it wasn’t for the union getting Sundays off, he‘d have died long before his time.

Mad in America, fit to be tied, wondering how it got this way
Mad in America, unemployed, they keep on sending our jobs away.

Her dad used to work in a factory, keeping his line up and running.
There wasn’t a motor he couldn’t fix, he was worth every dime he was earning.
One day his boss walked up to him, said it was time to retire,
Asked him why, they looked straight in the eyes, the plant was moving to China.
We’re global now, we have to compete, sure you can understand why.
Our bottom line looks very good - if we leave this country behind.

Mad in America, fit to be tied, wondering how it got this way
Not in America, under-employed, they keep sending good jobs away.

Donna worked with computers, telling machines what to do.
From the punch card days to the desktop ways, since 1972.
She burned the midnight oil, sometimes till quarter to 3.
Always made sure things were running right, before laying her head to sleep.
You can guess her surprise that Friday morning, when she opened the office door,
and heard them say that she was no longer needed, they were sending her job offshore.

Mad in America, fit to be tied, wondering how it got this way
Not in America, unemployed, there’s got to be a better way.

Ye Old Site Map
Home | Song Lyrics