Blue Collar Blues



He wakes up long before the dawn, though he slept little through the night.

Joints ooze pain and bones that ache, his muscles feel so sore and tight.

Shower and brush and comb and shave, a cup of coffee clears his head.

Decades of backbreaking work, yet each day the same path to tread.


His name is sewn upon his shirt, his boots are clad with toes of steel.

A box lunch made the night before will have to serve as his next meal.

He makes the steel and drills for oil, and moves whateverís in the way,

He welds the pipe and builds the ships, and goes about it every day.


He speaks importance to his job, yet in his heart he knows he lies.

He looks for meaning to his toil, but disappointment blinds his eyes.

For he detests the grueling work that wreck his body and his soul,

He bears this weight up every day, while time and nature take their toll.


Each day heíll sweat, and he may bleed, and he gets old before heís due,

Itís not the dollar that keeps him on, but the dreams he does pursue.

With his loved ones still asleep, heís off into the pre dawn mist.

He whispers sweet goodbyes to each, and on each cheek he leaves a kiss.


He steps into the early morn', fog dancing in the streetlights glow,

He thinks heíll get the car to start, if he holds down the gas just so.

About now he will stop in stride, and take a breath, and let it pass,

He takes a moment to thank God for all the blessings that he has.



††††††††††††††††††††††† ††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††©John Greenwood††† 2008