Millworker

Written by：Brian Ahern

My grandfather was a sailor

Blewing off the water

My father was a farmer

And I his only daughter

Took up with a no good millworking man from Massachusetts

Who dies from too much whiskey

And leaves me these three faces to feed

Now millwork ain't easy

Mill work ain't hard

Millwork it ain't nothing but an awful boring job

Waiting for a day dream

To take me through the morning

And put me in my coffee break

Where I can have a sandwich and review

And it's me and my machine

For the rest of the morning

For the rest of the afternoon

For the rest of my life

Now my mind begins to wonder

To the days back on the farm

I can see my father smiling at me

Swingin' on his arm

I can hear my grand dad's stories

Of the storms out on lake Erie

Where vessels and cargos and fortunes

And sailor's lives were lost

But it's my life has been wasted

And I have been the fool

To let this manufacture use my body for a tool

I can ride home in the evening

Staring at my hands

And swearing by my sorrow that a young girl

Ought to stand a better chance

So may I work the mills

Just as long as I am able

And never meet the man

Whose name is on the label

And it's me and my machine

For the rest of the morning

For the rest of the afternoon

For the rest of my life