Standing on a corner Frozen to the bone You have to make a living But you'd rather be at home Your eyes start getting heavy Still you forge on Wake up and face the world
And get a real job Get a real job
You get a little older Your bones are brittle and weak Dizzy in the morning Your pulse is sounding weak You hate to go to work Just living for a job Wake up and smell the coffee And get a real job
Get a real job Get a real job Get a real job Get a real job
Soon you will retire Or maybe have a stroke You cannot feel your finger tips Because some veins have closed But still you drive a hack Or push a hot dog cart Now it's too late for you To get a real job