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Weave Room Blues (Dorsey Dixon) Working in a weave-room, fighting for my life Trying to make a living for my kiddies and my wife Some are needing clothing and some are needing shoes But I'm getting nothing for them but the weave-room blues I got the blues, I got the blues I got them awful weave-room blues I got the blues, the weave-room blues With your looms a-slamming, shuttles bouncing on the floor And when you flag your fixer, you can see that he is sore I'm trying to make a living, but I think that I will lose Cause I'm getting nothing but those weave-room blues The harness eyes are breaking and the doubles coming through The devil's in your alley and he's coming after you Our hearts are aching, let us take a little snooze For we're simply dying with them weave-room blues Slam outs, break outs, knot ups by the score Cloth all rolled back and piled up on the floor The bats are running ends, the strings are hanging to your shoes We're simply dying with them weave-room blues shoes Copyright Dorsey Dixon Estate from the Folksingers Wordbook SOF
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!