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The Old Mill Is Gone
The streets are filled with crying men,
filling the gutters up with tears.
As we walk from our final shift,
that’s fed us for a hundred years.
Eleven hundred jobs vanished,
like a leaf caught upon the wind.
And Canton North Carolina,
will never be the same again.
What’s in store for us tomorrow,
no one can ever really know.
When your faith is already gone,
and any hope is next to go.
There’s no money left to buy things,
that it will take just to survive.
Wondering if it’d be better,
if I would just lay down and die.
They tell me these are better days,
than how it always used to be.
They sure got a long way to go,
before they can prove it to me.
Because I still don’t have a job,
or any money left to spend.
So please don’t give me any bull,
how this country is on the mend.
Even the drunks on the corner,
are gone but it’s not what you think.
They all have to get sober now,
because they can’t afford to drink.
Copyright ©
Jerry Brotherton
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