Lyrics

The work load’s getting harder,
the young girls are taking over,
and I had to move two blocks over, down below.
I can’t reject the bad ones . . . anymore.

You know that fella Owen,
well all the ladies all call him “Slowen,”
it ain’t nobody paid enough for that.
You musta lost your mind, long time ago.

(chorus)
We are the ladies that taught you what you learned in school.
We are the ladies taught to obey the Golden Rule.

Well on the weekends, we act like we got paid.
Down here Sunday’s the day that the Lord hath made.
I ain’t working . . . today.

(Chorus)