(Porter Grainger)
One day every week, I prop myself at my front door
One day every week, I prop myself at my front door
And the police force couldn't move me 'fore that mail man blow
'T'was a little white paper Uncle Sam had done addressed to me
'T'was a little white paper Uncle Sam had done addressed to me
It meant one more week, one week of sweet prosperity
But bad news got to spreading, and my poor hair started turning grey
But bad news got to spreading, and my poor hair started turning grey
'Cause Uncle Sam started chopping, cutting thousands off the W.P.A.
Just a little pink slip, in a long white envelope
Just a little pink slip, in a long white envelope
Was the end of my road, was the last ray of my only hope
After four long years, Uncle Sam done put me on the shelf
After four long years, Uncle Sam done put me on the shelf
'Cause that little pink slip means you got to go for yourself