Mill Worker (James Taylor) My grandfather was a sailor, he blew in 'cross the water My daddy was a farmer, and I his only daughter I took up with a no-good mill-working man from Massachusetts Who dies from too much whiskey and leaves me these three faces to feed Mill work ain't easy and mill work ain't hard Mill work ain't nothing but an awful boring job So I'm waiting for a daydream to take me through the morning And get me to my coffee break where I can have a sandwich and remember It's me and my machine For the rest of the morning The rest of the afternoon gone For the rest of my life My mind begins to wander to my days back on the farm And I can see my daddy smilin' at me swingin' on his arms I can hear my granddad's stories of storms out on Lake Erie Where vessels and cargoes and fortunes and sailors' lives were lost But it's my life has been wasted, and I have been the fool To let this manufacturer use my body for a tool And I ride home in the evening and I stare down at my hands And I swear by my sorrow that a young girl ought to stand a better chance And it's me I'll work the mill just as long as I am able But may I never meet the man whose name is on the label And it's me and my machine For the rest of the morning The rest of the afternoon gone For the rest of my life MC
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!