Working in a weave-room, fighting for my life
Trying to make a living for my kiddies and my wife
Some are needing clothing and some are needing shoes
But I'm getting nothing for them but the weave-room blues

I got the blues, I got the blues
I got them awful weave-room blues
I got the blues, the weave-room blues

With your looms a-slamming, shuttles bouncing on the floor
And when you flag your fixer, you can see that he is sore
I'm trying to make a living, but I think that I will lose
Cause I'm getting nothing but those weave-room blues

The harness eyes are breaking and the doubles coming through
The devil's in your alley and he's coming after you
Our hearts are aching, let us take a little snooze
For we're simply dying with them weave-room blues

Slam outs, break outs, knot ups by the score
Cloth all rolled back and piled up on the floor
The bats are running ends, the strings are hanging to your shoes
We're simply dying with them weave-room blues

@work @weaving
from the Folksingers Wordbook
filename[ WEAVBLUE
SF
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