Louis Armstrong & His Orchestra youre just a no account

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You never will amount to nothin' at all
When there is work to do and someone yells for you
You won't heed them call
Now, the good Lord set aside each Sunday for folks to rest
More that one day's rest is wrong
You start restin' Sundays and you rest so hard
You're tired the whole week long
And you'll never amount to nothin' at all
I just can't figure how each time you milk the cow
The tit gets so small
We got machines to do your work for you
But you won't press the button on the wall
And you'll never amount to nothin' at all

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