Latimer/Hoover
Watching the bobbins,
go up and down
Fine Irish linen
for a ladies gown
One shirt a penny,
seven in a tag;
ten hours a day
and her heart begins to drag

This never ending cycle goes on
But she promised she would never stay
for long
Rocking the treadle,
ache in her soul
She keeps the rhythm
and it takes a toll
Threading the needle,
strains in her eyes
Old withered fingers
steal her young girl's pride
She's saving every penny she earns,
because the passion for her freedom
still burns