The Hand That Feeds

I've seen good men spoiled
 Chained to their jobs like hounds
 They work and sleep, and work again
 In the darkest nights, they howl
 Their cries are a warning
 To everyone following
 No man should stand to work all of his days
 And have nothing at the end of them
 I got no money, but the change that jingles in my pockets
 Reminding me how little I have
 And as for time, I am powerless to stop it
 It keeps rambling on like a mad wandering man
 My papa was a howlin' man
 Traded in his youth
 He sold his dreams and all of his days
 For the great American ruse
 And my dear papa gave me
 Lessons in regret
 He said all that he'd done would be for nothing
 If I followed in his steps
 I got no money, but the change that jingles in my pockets
 Reminding me how little I have
 And as for time, I am powerless to stop it
 It keeps rambling on like a mad wandering man
 My papa taught me how to howl
 How to bear my teeth and growl
 He taught me that the hand that feeds
 Deserves to be bitten when it beats
 He taught me how to break my chains
 And that money ain't worth a thing
 And that no man should get
 More of my time than me, than me
 I may never be a rich man
 But I can make sure that I am free
 I may never be a rich man
 But the rich man will never have me, never have me
 I may never be a rich man
 But I can make sure that I am free
 I may never be a rich man
 The rich man will never have me, never have me
 I got no money, but the change that jangles in my pockets
 Reminding me how little I have
 But as for time, as for time, it's mine, it's mine