In Service
Music and lyrics by Brenda Sutton
August, 2003

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D E

Wouldn't you like to sail to England?
Wouldn't you want to earn your dues?
Wouldn't you love to hook my buttons up?
Wouldn't you like to shine my shoes?
Wouldn't you want to sleep in a cold, cramped room
At the top of a long dark stair?
Wouldn't you love to be my lady's maid?
Wouldn't you want to work au pere?

Wouldn't you care to answer my front door
In Boston or Chicago?
Wouldn't you yearn to scrub my kitchen floor?
Wouldn't you like the drudge and chores?
Would you beg to haul my coal and hay
Or dump my chamber pot?
Working "in service" for a pauper's pay?
Wouldn't you like that life a lot?

Aspirations, far from your native land
Aspirations, duck your head and bend your knee
Your life is oh so grand.

Wouldn't you like to leave your family
Far behind for foreign shores?
Wouldn't you want to nurse the constant pain
That you'll n'er see them no more?
Wouldn't you try to drown yourself in drink
At the end of the working day?
Wouldn't you weigh the gains against the loss
For the promise of your pay?
Wouldn't you like to squirrel your pence and pounds
In a monthly letter home?
Wouldn't you like to fade and slave away
Far from your love alone?

Aspirations, far from your native land
Aspirations, duck your head and bend your knee
Your life is oh so grand.

Wouldn't you love to eat my table scraps?
Wouldn't you wear my hand-me-downs?
Wouldn't you like to come sit on my lap?
Now give us a kiss and smile -- no frowns.
And wouldn't you then be oh so grateful for
Generosity like mine?
Wouldn't you like to tell me to stuff my gift
In a place where the sun don't shine?