What's In It For The Working Man

[Verse 1] Sun breaks, another restless morning, Old boots, worn paths without warning. Hands rough, back bent, eyes on the ground, Dreams fade as the mills keep spinning 'round. [Chorus] What’s in it for the working man? Sweat and toil, for what grand plan? The rich fill their cups and raise their glass, As our hopes thin like worn-out brass. [Verse 2] Check’s light, bills heavy on the kitchen table, The rich grow fat, willing and able. Glass towers touch the sky so high, While in their shadow, we barely scrape by. [Bridge] Is there honor in the grind? Seeking fortunes we never find. Promised a piece of the sprawling land, Left holding crumbs in our open hand. [Chorus] What’s in it for the working man? Sweat and toil, for what grand plan? The rich fill their cups and raise their glass, As our hopes thin like worn-out brass. [Verse3] Maybe it’s time, we ask for more, Not just survive, but to soar. For each drop of sweat, for every pain, Must be for more than just their gain. [Chorus] What’s in it for the working man? Sweat and toil, for what grand plan? The rich fill their cups and raise their glass, As our hopes thin like worn-out brass. [Outro] Maybe there’s strength in standing tall, In the echoed steps through empty halls. For every drop of sweat that lands, We'll keep asking, 'What’s in it for the working man?' [Outro] Maybe there’s strength in standing tall, In the echoed steps through empty halls. For every drop of sweat that lands, We'll keep asking, 'What’s in it for the working man?'