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Weave Room Blues

Dorsey Dixon
Lingua: Inglese




Working in a weave-room, fighting for my life
Trying to make a living for my kiddies and my wife;
Some are needing clothing, some are needing shoes,
But I'm getting nothing but the weave-room blues. ‎

I've got the blues, I've got the blues,
I've got them awful weave-room blues;
I got the blues, the weave-room blues.‎

With your looms a-slamming, shuttles bouncing in the floor,
When you flag your fixer, you can see that he is sore;
Trying to make a living, but I'm thinking I will lose,
For I'm sent a-dying with them weave-room blues. ‎

I've got the blues, I've got the blues,
I've got them awful weave-room blues;
I got the blues, the weave-room blues.‎

Harness eyes are breaking with the doubles coming through,
Devil's in your alley and he's coming after you,
Our hearts are aching, well, let's take a little booze;
For we're simply dying with them weave-room blues. ‎

I've got the blues, got the blues,
I've got them awful weave-room blues;
I got the blues, the weave-room blues.‎

Slam-outs, break-outs, knot-ups by the score,
Cloth all rolled back and piled up in the floor;
The harness eyes are breaking, strings are hanging to your shoes,
We're simply dying with them weave-room blues. ‎

I've got the blues, got the blues,
I've got them awful weave-room blues;
I got the blues, the weave-room blues.‎


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