Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Toil , by - Flatfoot 56. Song from the album Toil, in the genre Иностранный рокRelease date: 25.06.2012
Record label: Ollie Mob Worldwide
Song language: English
Toil |
| 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 |