Toil - Flatfoot 56

Toil - Flatfoot 56

Альбом
Toil
Год
2012
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
217020

Nedan finns texten till låten Toil , artist - Flatfoot 56 med översättning

Låttexten " Toil "

Originaltext med översättning

Toil

Flatfoot 56

Upon this lowly railroad spike my hammer swung and fell.

Down the mighty

Mississipp,' where the raging waters swell.

In the corner of that factory,

a dark man-made hell

I’ll be sitting there in my snare making what they sell

With a silver spoon breaking my teeth, the boys on the line working just to eat.

Are you picturing the stories that I sing?

A child working day and night

A father turned into a ghostly sight

The wage slave knows so well that hopeless strain

Of a poor man just trying to remain

As he pays his toll of pain

From the dear old age of Adam to the workers of Boaz

We’ve been doomed to sing this crazy song, yet it’s made me who I am

From the steel workers in Pittsburgh, to the trucker and his load

All feeding that old fat cat just hoping he’ll explode

With a silver spoon breaking my teeth

The boys on the line working just to eat, are you picturing the stories that I

sing?

A child working day and night

A father turned into a ghostly sight

The wage slave knows so well that hopeless strain

Of a poor man trying to remain

As he pays his toll of pain

We’ve been working for far too long

We’ve been doomed to hear this lowly song for our sons

Our sweat must be working just to fall

I’m a slave to that whistle call

I’m a slave to that whistle call

From the dear old age of Adam to the workers of Boaz

We’ve been doomed to sing this crazy song, yet it’s made me who I am

From the steel workers in Pittsburgh, to the trucker and his load

All feeding that old fat cat just hoping he’ll explode

With a silver spoon breaking my teeth, the boys on the line working just to eat,

are you picturing the stories that I sing?

A child working day and night

A father turned into a ghostly sight

The wage slave knows so well that hopeless strain

Of a poor man trying to remain

As he pays his toll of pain

As he pays his toll of pain

We’ve been working for far too long

We’ve been doomed to hear this crazy song for our sons

Our sweat must be working just to fall

I’m a slave to that whistle call

I’m a slave to that whistle call.

I’m a slave

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