We are workers all of us, we all have to pay our bills
We must feed and clothe our children, nurse them back when they fall ill
We demand a living wage, and we want some kind of say
By our union we will find a better way

Four AM and she's going strong, almost done on the 23rd floor
Lift and wash and polish everything shiny clean
She spends midnight hours in empty towers, each night she's wondering
"Will I work here til I die here
Is there anything left for me?"

And in the morning my new shoes scuff that floor
I'm not thinking about or knowing her
But now I'm looking down and I can see

That we are workers all of us, we all have to pay our bills
We must feed and clothe our children, nurse them back when they fall ill
We demand a living wage, and we want some kind of say
By our union we will find a better way

Nine AM and our paths don't cross
I'm getting in, she's getting lost
Dull-eyed and sleepy from the strain of a twelve-hour day
Sixty hours a week or more keeps the landlord from the door
So she'll keep this job as long as she can stay
Working here

And each morning our shoes scuff up that floor
We're not thinking about or knowing her
But now we're looking 'round and we can see

That we are workers all of us, we all have to pay our bills
We must feed and clothe our children, nurse them back when they fall ill
We demand a living wage, and we want some kind of say
By our union we will find a better way