I lived in a town way down south By the name of Buffalo Worked in the mill with the rest of the trash As we're often called you know You factory folks who sing this rhyme Will surely understand The reason why I love you so Is I'm a factory hand While standing here between my looms You know I lose no time To keep my shuttles in a whizz And write this little rhyme We rise up early in the morn' And work all day real hard To buy our little meat and bread And sugar, tea and lard We work from weekend to weekend And never lose a day And when that awful payday comes We draw our little pay We then go home on payday night And sit down in a chair The merchant raps upon the door He's come to get his share When all our little debts are paid And nothing left behind We turn our pockets wrong-side out But not a cent can we find We rise up early in the morn' And toil from soon to late We have no time to primp or fix And dress right up to date Our children they grow up unlearned No time to go to school Almost before they have learned to walk They have learned to spin or spool The bossman jerks them round and round And whistles very keen I'll tell you what the factory kids Are really treated mean The folks in town who dress so fine And spend their money free Will hardly look at a factory hand Who dresses like you and me As we go walking down the street All wrapped in lint and strings They call us fools and factory trash And other lowdown things Well let them wear their watches fine Their rings and pearly strings When the day of judgement comes We'll make 'em shed their pretty things
I lived in a town way down south By the name of Buffalo Worked in the mill with the rest of the trash As we're often called you know You factory folks who sing this rhyme Will surely understand The reason why I love you so Is I'm a factory hand While standing here between my looms You know I lose no time To keep my shuttles in a whizz And write this little rhyme We rise up early in the morn' And work all day real hard To buy our little meat and bread And sugar, tea and lard We work from weekend to weekend And never lose a day And when that awful payday comes We draw our little pay We then go home on payday night And sit down in a chair The merchant raps upon the door He's come to get his share When all our little debts are paid And nothing left behind We turn our pockets wrong-side out But not a cent can we find We rise up early in the morn' And toil from soon to late We have no time to primp or fix And dress right up to date Our children they grow up unlearned No time to go to school Almost before they have learned to walk They have learned to spin or spool The bossman jerks them round and round And whistles very keen I'll tell you what the factory kids Are really treated mean The folks in town who dress so fine And spend their money free Will hardly look at a factory hand Who dresses like you and me As we go walking down the street All wrapped in lint and strings They call us fools and factory trash And other lowdown things Well let them wear their watches fine Their rings and pearly strings When the day of judgement comes We'll make 'em shed their pretty things
