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.