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Britain's Motorways (Ewan MacColl) Come, me little son, and I will tell you what we'll do Undress yourself, get into bed And a tale I'll tell to you It's all about your daddy He's a man you seldom see He's had to roam, far away from home Away from you and me But remember lad, he's still your dad 'Though he's working far away In the cold and heat, eighty hours a week On England's motorways When you fall and hurt yourself And wake up feeling bad It isn't any use to go A running for your dad For the only time since you were born He's had to stay with you He was out of a job and we hadn't a bob He was signing on the broo But remember lad, he's still your dad And he really earns his pay Working day and night upon the site Of England's motorway To buy your shoes your daddy built A length of railroad track He built a hydro-dam to buy The clothes upon your back This motor highway buys our food But the wages soon are spent And though we have to live apart It helps to pay the rent But remember lad, he's still your dad And he's toiling every day But there';s food to be had and it's thanks to your dad On England's motorway Sure we need your daddy here and Sure it would be fine To have him working nearer home And to see him all the time But beggars can't be choosers and We have to bear our load For we need the money your daddy earns On England's motorways So remember lad, he's still your dad And he'll soon be here to stay For a week or two with me and you When he's built the motorway by Ewan MacColl c1961 Copyright Sing Out written for BBC "Song of a Road" recorded by Ewan MacColl SOF
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