Song of the Pipeline
SONG OF THE PIPELINE
Working on the pipeline
Having such a great time
All work and no play
Never know the time of day.
Toiling seven days a week
Never finding time to sleep
Work in mud up to our necks
Have no time to cash our checks.
Sleep in beds that aren’t our own
We’re so far away from home
Hungry, cold, hot and wet
How much harder can it get?
Back at home, our lovers wait
Separated from their mates
Wonder how it would feel
To have a real home-cooked meal.
Feet are sore, muscles ache
Please God, when’s our break!
Dirt and dust and insect bites
What’s that sound?...it’s dynamite!
Welder’s torches shooting flames
Connecting pipes with perfect aim
Backhoes move the earth around
Digging trenches in the ground.
Laborer’s shovels lifting dirt
How much more can this body hurt
My fellow workers help me through
What we wouldn’t do for one cold brew.
Pride and strength and pain and time
Goes into the making of a pipeline.
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