Bound under chains she works day to day, walking barefoot on concrete
Her voice is hoarse, her feet are sore and her movements are small and discrete.
She's old and bony, and her smile is phony as she's driven to work all too hard
Soon the day fades to dark and not a single lark is heard under cover of night
And lo and behold, the lady of old has finally given up life's fight.
All those that shoved her around have grown a bigger frown
as one last worker goes down