(Bob Dylan)

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
I wake up every morning
Hold my hands and pray for rain
I've got a head full of ideas
Driving me insane
It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
Well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more
He hands you a nickel
He hands you a dime
He asks you and your friends
If you're having a good time
He finds you every time you slam the door
Well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more

Well, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Pa no more
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's Pa no more
He stubs his cigarette out in your face just for kicks
His bedroom window is made out of bricks
And the National Guard are standing at his door
Well, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more