Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shipyard, artist - Sting.
Date of issue: 31.12.2012
Song language: English
Shipyard |
Ah me name is Jackie White |
I’m the foreman of the yard |
And ya don’t mess with Jackie on this quayside |
I’m as hard as iron plate |
Woe betide you if you’re late |
When we have to push a boat out on the spring tide |
Now they could die and hope for Heaven |
But they’d need to work their shift |
And I’d expect them all to back me to the hilt |
And if St. Peter at his gate were to ask them why they’re late? |
Why, they’d tell him that they had to get a ship built |
We build battleships and cruisers (ah) |
For her Majesty the Queen |
Super tankers for Onassis, (ah) |
And all the classes in between |
We built the greatest shipping tonnage |
That the world has ever seen |
And the only life we’ve known is in the shipyard |
Now, gentlemen |
Steel in the stockyard |
Iron in the soul |
We’ll conjure up a ship |
Where there used to be a hole |
But we don’t know what we’ll do |
If the yard gets sold |
For the only life we’ve known is in the shipyard |
Why are we makin' nice with this bloke if he’s just out to shut us down? |
We’re trying to make him understand |
It’s about bloody time he understood me then! |
My name is Billy Thompson |
I’m shop steward for the Union |
And me dream is proletarian revolution |
Comrades, brothers, fellow travelers and others |
Class struggle is the means of dialectic evolution |
And Das Kapital’s me bible |
So the ruling class are liable |
And quoting Marx and Engels, it’s entirely justifiable |
If the workers revolution here is |
Ever to be viable |
We become the rightful owners of the shipyard |
Look, there’s a mixture of emotions |
Hatred, gratitude and pride |
And you hate yourself for crying |
But that’s difficult to hide |
For there’s a sadness in the launching |
And ye worry what’s ahead |
And that worry never leaves ye |
No, it keeps on nagging in your head |
So ye pray to God for orders |
But ye’ll worry till ya dead… |
Until they bury your remains |
In the blacksmith’s shed |
And the only life ye’ve known is in the shipyard |
Steel in the stockyard |
Iron in the soul |
We’ll conjure up a ship |
Where there used to be a hole |
But we don’t know what we’ll do |
If the yard gets sold |
For the only life we’ve known is in the shipyard |
My name is Peggy White |
And I’ve nursed them through their injuries |
And their cuts and wounds I’ve bound |
Busted arms, and busted heads |
Broken backs and broken legs |
I’d often put them in a splint |
Before we put them in the ground |
And the fumes from all the welding |
Where the poison air is hung |
And the toxic radiation |
That’s been blackening their tongues |
I’d be giving them an aspirin |
They’d be coughing up their lungs |
It was all they ever got here in this shipyard |
Jackie. |
Far be it from me to intrude, but I’m wondering if I might say a few |
words |
Of course, Father. |
The floor is yours |
Well, me name is James O’Brien, it’s from Ireland I was sent |
To be the pastor of this flock and your spiritual guide |
I might suggest to all of you heathens |
What you might give up for Lent |
But ye won’t give up your dignity |
Ye can’t give up your pride |
And ye can’t give up your history, ye can’t give up the ghost |
For on the last day of judgment, a heavenly host |
Will descend on this community to separate the just |
From the damned and the wicked and the ones ye couldn’t trust |
And there are times when the good Lord might ask for sacrifice |
But it’s the devil that be tempting ye, even if he’s paid you twice |
For their souls cannot be purchased as they haven’t got a price |
And they won’t give up |
No, we won’t give up, we won’t give up your/our lives here in the shipyard |
Mind you, I once gave up the drinking, was it 1963? |
It seems as though sobriety was not the thing for me |
It was the worst three hours I ever hope to see |
Steel in the stockyard |
Iron in the soul |
We’ll conjure up a ship |
Where there used to be a hole |
And the ship sets sail and the tail gets told |
And the only life we’ve known is in the shipyard |
Steel in the stockyard |
Iron in the soul |
We’ll get the bastard finished |
Or we’ll end up on the dole |
But we |
Never minded working |
In the rain and the cold |
Shootin' rivets in the bulkheads |
Welding in the hold |
But we don’t know what we’ll do |
If the yard gets sold |
The only |
Life we’ve ever known is in the shipyard |