Millworker — текст песни (James Taylor)

Now my grandfather was a sailor

He blew in 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



Millwork aint easy

Millwork aint hard

Millwork it aint nothing

But an awful boring job

Im waiting for a daydream

To take me through the morning

And put me in my coffee break

Where I can have a sandwich

And remember



Then its me and my machine

For the rest of the morning

For the rest of the afternoon

And the rest of my life



Now my mind begins to wander

To the days back on the farm

I can see my father smiling at me

Swinging on his arm

I can hear my granddads stories

Of the storms out on lake eerie

Where vessels and cargos and fortunes

And sailors lives were lost



Yes, but its my life has been wasted

And I have been the fool

To let this manufacturer

Use my body for a tool

I can ride home in the evening

Staring at my hands

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



It be me and my machine

For the rest of the morning

And the rest of the afternoon

Gone for the rest of my life