Millworker
Words and Music by James Taylor
(c) 1979 Country Road Music
G/
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
/
Mill-work ain't easy; mill-work ain't hard
Mill-work, it ain't nothing but an awful boring job
I'm waiting for a day dream to take me through the morning
and put me in my coffee break where I can have a sandwich and remember
(addD) /
Then it's 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, swingin' on his arm
I can hear my grand-dad's stories of the storms out on Lake Erie
where vessels and cargos and fortunes and sailor's lives were lost
Yes, but it's my life has been wasted, and I have been the fool
to let this manufacture 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
(addD) /
So may I work the mills just as long as I am able
/
and never meet the man whose name is on the label
(addD) /
It be me and my machine for the rest of the morning
/
for the rest of the afternoon
/
and the rest of my life
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