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$5 Working People's Music Tape


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© 1998 by Ray Korona



Once they gave welfare to the poor; food stamps for the grocery store.

But now there’s workfare... you know, there’s been a switch.

The poor sweep up the streets and welfare’s for the rich.


It’s a workfare life if you’re not rich.

So dump that trash, shovel that dirt, hear the congressman say:

No work, no pay.


High class bandits bought some banks; withdrew all the money, thanks.

The S&L bailout-- a trillion bucks they say.

It’s all getting paid back with the taxes from your pay.

Repeat Chorus


See those corporate hustlers go-- big Pentagon portfolio.

They make some pay-offs and get billions back.

They’ll drive away real fast in a welfare Cadillac.

Repeat Chorus


Don’t limp along in just on job. Workfare!

Don’t get old. Don’t get sick. Workfare!

Leave the easy life to the slick.


No free rides and no free eats. Guess they’ll show those welfare cheats.

Assistance vouchers make you look seedy.

Forget that school lunch, kids, lower taxes for the greedy.

Repeat Chorus




© 1998 by Ray Korona



I’m young, just in my teens, I make toys here in Thailand--

The pig lady and the big ears mouse; you’d think this is fairyland.

But the bosses are in your face. They push and yell all day.

They need more toys somewhere far away. And you can’t live on what they pay.


But we will have dignity.

Tear down this misery.

The world will hear our song.

We’re growing strong.


One Monday afternoon, there were screams in the factory.

The whole building consumed by flames-- doors locked for security.

In that cruel, cheap fire trap, two hundred workers died.

The broken toys and broken people strewn all over side by side.

Repeat Chorus


And we’re fighting back.

Petitions and boycotts will carry us through.

They’ll all know that this world is our world too.


Across the seas a land where these dolls find a family.

And the children get to go to school. They don’t work in a factory.

There are unions that struggle for better pay and safety.

We’ll never rest until the day all people live in dignity.

Repeat Chorus


lyrics and story about this song also available at the ILO child labor site





© 1997 by Ray Korona


Let your roving eyes peruse that memo

And your free hand grab this report.

Make a move now back into your office.

Try your luck with those lines at a singles resort.

Chorus: The economy’s rough and I try to earn a living.

It’s hard enough with all the taking and giving.

I tell you right now you’re heading straight for a fall.

If there’s sexual harassment, I’m calling the law.

I’m not hear as your loving date

Or to help your libido unwind.

This is nine-to-five, not fantasy island.

Bring your newspaper here, leave your "Hustler" behind.


repeat chorus


You can let it loose in your bedroom;

Do your thing in a men’s room stall.

But when you come here on a work day,

It’s not okay for you to drool and paw.


repeat chorus


You can compliment me on my job skills

Not on how much you enjoy the view.

There are lots of things I’ve learned to put up with,

But I’ll tell you one of them sure isn’t you.


repeat chorus


Spoken tag.






© 1992 by Ray Korona


Dr. Jones is driving to see the Governor;

He's smiling all the way!

The thrill of healing the high and mighty

Might fade if the Governor didn't pay.

But he gets all the care he needs.

It comes free with his job.

For such fine doctoring the rest of us

Better go out looking for a bank to rob.


chorus: Send me an ambulance when I need one.

Give me something for my pain.

Tell the government to pay the hospital.

I'll be back on my feet again.


Mary's job once gave her insurance benefits:

Blue Cross, Blue Tooth, Blue Hair.

Her job is gone with its health protection.

She can't buy insurance now and that's not fair.

But she's too risky, they all say.

The answer comes back "No!"

With two bad toothaches in just three years time,

Mary isn't welcome in their HMO.


repeat chorus


President's must plan for a balanced budget--

The President says so.

It would be ideal if we all had health care,

But bankers and generals are short on dough.

So think positive, you'll get well soon.

Try sunflower seeds.

Don't breath the air or drink the water and

Maybe you won't have any health care needs.


repeat chorus





© 1992 by Ray Korona


They stretch you like a rubber band.

They twist you like a paper clip.

They smear you with correction fluid.

Replace you with a micro chip.



The day's too long and the pay's too small at the office.

It's just plain wrong how they make people crawl at the office.

Have you had enough neglect? How about a little respect!

If you'll be strong, they'll be an overhaul at the office.


Do you get honest work for honest pay

Or minimum wage for maximum day?

Do you work overtime without compensation

While they take the profits and a vacation.


They ride you like an elevator.

Spin you like a swivel chair.

Drop you in the out basket.

Stab you with any icy stare.


It's easy to see, you're just being baited,

When they smile and say you're so liberated.

Serving them coffee, fulfilling their wishes.

You could have stayed home and done your own dishes.

They drive you like a staple gun.

Slam you like a file drawer.

Hang you on a balance sheet.

Walk on you like the office floor.




Sound the gong and raise a battle call at the office.

Before too long those kings are gonna fall at the office.

Sing this song and you can change it all at the office.








© 1998 by Ray Korona




When they said I’d have to go; they’re slashing the payroll,

They said I’d get a break in one respect.

For just a little more than my big multi-national employer paid

I can keep my health insurance in effect.




Then they said, "Keep on smiling though you’re downsized.

Your sacrifice will shine in our bottom line.

You were born in this country; you’re not too old or sick.

We’re sure you’ll find another job real quick!"


Now they say they’ll take me back on the outsource plan.

No benefits; no vacation days.

And they dream of untold wealth from sweatshop work in desperate lands.

The staff back home starves on workfare pay.


repeat chorus


It’s not people that they see-- only cold, hard cash.

If you ask me, here’s what they should downsize:

The fortunes that are stolen; the greedy hands and shallow minds

That sell us out with silver-plated lies, when they say:


repeat chorus


final chorus:


Well, I’ll be smiling when they’re downsized.

Their profit cuts will shine in this pay of mine.

This is our country. Downsizers make me sick.

They’d better learn another tune real quick!









© 1997 by Ray Korona


December of ‘95, most of France had had enough.

The so-called liberal president kept saying times are tough.

But everywhere you looked, the rich were getting more.

Everybody else was shown the door.


Tens of thousands out of work, now health care gets the axe.

Soon pensions will be sacrificed: Shut up and pay the tax.

The railroad workers vowed, "These ghouls can take a hike.

Get out on the street. We’re gonna strike!"


Chorus: Tous ensemble! Tous ensemble!

All together we will win.

Tous ensemble! Tous ensemble!

We can win together.


Just eight percent of workers were in unions now in France.

The railroad union could be crushed but still they took the chance.

And workers marched with homeless to bring down the elites.

Two million people filled the streets.


repeat chorus


Bridge: Nurses, teachers, artists, unemployed

Black, white, women and men

Here to take our country back again!


The trains are running now and the factory whistles blow.

From economic genocide, it’s back to status quo.

But it’s a different world--now they know we’re there.

Listen, you can hear it in the air.


repeat chorus







© 1998 by Ray Korona




When I wake up, it burns in my head.

I had so much promise, everyone said.

Now I’m miles behind— written off for dead.

But I feel and think; I’d work hard, too.

I’m a person, Sir, like you.




No one should have to beg, borrow or rob.

We need jobs for all, all who need jobs.




Chief executive, king of the suites--

Designer suits with hand tailored pleats

So many others wander the streets

I guess he does a lot for the company;

He sure does nothing for me.


Repeat chorus




Honest work, honest pay--

Time for living at the end of the day




A pleasure yacht rides on the back of the sea

They party on deck, there’s champagne and brie

If the waves rise up, they’re history!

How much money they’ve got, no one knows.

Other people need food and clothes.


Repeat chorus