Slavin' away All for you my love And i've nothin to show for it Cept my dusty old book full of pictures A dusty old book Tell me a story Bout how i wasn't so tired From my slavin' away I ran off Put on corduroy knickers that i got from the coal shovelin' kid And hitchhiked in a rickety old ford Hitchhiked in a rattly old norton side car Down strange roads In the purrin' rain, as the poet put it On up to st. Paul On a cold day in the middle of the fall And they picked me up for not wearin a dress And suspended my sentence If i wore somethin with a strap that was pink And i scrubbed up on somebody's sink So now i catch the canadian pacific And not be too specific, just somewhere up north And get into lumber and slumber when i like And in the spring ride down into cheyenne on my bike I looked out the window And i stuck my head out the door And the snow was melting so slow... And the sky was light but so gray... Slavin' away And all for nothin' my love Cookin and washin in the morning And startin at 9:25 I assemble six boxes of little plastic christmas trees And put in the blue leds On kid toy cell phones with borg batteries And then on to the sewing machine Stick the labels on purple t-shirts And the arms on pull-over jumpers for the uk Slavin' away All for you my love And i've nothin to show for it I've nothin to show for it I could see her lookin in the mirror at me Wonderin' if it wasn't plain for everyone to see Nothin ever seemed to turn out how it might be I could see her doubting now that all had gone and went That anything she got was equal what that she'd spent That she never seemed to get back what that she'd lent Anyway they did have a son And by the time he was married and i played at his wedding too at holy trinity I was choir director myself Rehearsals in the basement twice a week I demanded we'd be in peak condition And everything seemed to be going quite well I got along well with the priest...
Slavin' away All for you my love And i've nothin to show for it Cept my dusty old book full of pictures A dusty old book Tell me a story Bout how i wasn't so tired From my slavin' away I ran off Put on corduroy knickers that i got from the coal shovelin' kid And hitchhiked in a rickety old ford Hitchhiked in a rattly old norton side car Down strange roads In the purrin' rain, as the poet put it On up to st. Paul On a cold day in the middle of the fall And they picked me up for not wearin a dress And suspended my sentence If i wore somethin with a strap that was pink And i scrubbed up on somebody's sink So now i catch the canadian pacific And not be too specific, just somewhere up north And get into lumber and slumber when i like And in the spring ride down into cheyenne on my bike I looked out the window And i stuck my head out the door And the snow was melting so slow... And the sky was light but so gray... Slavin' away And all for nothin' my love Cookin and washin in the morning And startin at 9:25 I assemble six boxes of little plastic christmas trees And put in the blue leds On kid toy cell phones with borg batteries And then on to the sewing machine Stick the labels on purple t-shirts And the arms on pull-over jumpers for the uk Slavin' away All for you my love And i've nothin to show for it I've nothin to show for it I could see her lookin in the mirror at me Wonderin' if it wasn't plain for everyone to see Nothin ever seemed to turn out how it might be I could see her doubting now that all had gone and went That anything she got was equal what that she'd spent That she never seemed to get back what that she'd lent Anyway they did have a son And by the time he was married and i played at his wedding too at holy trinity I was choir director myself Rehearsals in the basement twice a week I demanded we'd be in peak condition And everything seemed to be going quite well I got along well with the priest...
