Wannabe Saint

You put on your pants.
You put on your shirt.
You put on your shoes,
And you go to work.
But the day gives you the bird.
You got no time,
And you get no respect.
The man owns you,
And you are a zombie.
You work hard all day,
Hard all night,
Work like a dog,
But you feel uptight.

How can you stand it all?
How can you stand this pain?
Can you see the light at the end,
The light at the end of the tunnel?

Are you a wannabe saint?
Do you work for the good of man?
Do you work despite persecution?
I think you're a wannabe saint,
A wannabe saint, for sure.

You could be an angel,
An angel in disguise.
You could be of the heavenly divine,
The one from whom we should drink wine.
You are the working class hero
We aim to be, but fall far short.
You are the working class hero, man,
And we salute you. Let your spirit free!