Not My Job

Not My Job


I really feel sorry for those on the street with little to wear and nothing to eat

I'd like to do something to help end their plight

Though I haven't a clue what to do tonight.

And it's not my job. I've got plenty to do.

What with house work and home work and bills that are due

Why, my nine-to-five barely keeps me alive besides it's not my job

There must be people we pay to insure that these poor souls not suffer discomfiture

Professional people know better than me

What to do with the poor urban refugee

See, it's not my job. I haven't the wisdom to try

My training's in business, not people, not I

I haven't the skill this task to fulfill so still, it's not my job.

bridge:

Who are these people anyway? Certainly no one I know

They don't live on my street. They're not that discreet

I'd never touch one, don't know where they've been

Though the way that we treat them is really a sin.

I really feel sorry for those on the street with little to wear and nothing to eat.

I'd like to do something but haven't the nerve

And secretly feel they get what they deserve.

So it's not my job. It's just that I'm not so inclined

It isn't my problem. I don't think I'd find

The right motivation to fix up the nation.

Oh well, it's not my job. It's just not my job.

It's just that it isn't my job. Thank God it's not my job!


Copyright 1991, Tim Rose, All rights reserved. [email protected]