Lyrics Apprentice Song - David Harley

I've just spent
Six solid weeks
Building this staircase
Without even a lad
To hold the nails
And I don't
Want to see anyone
Walking all over it

Fetch the rolls: make the tea: grab the end of that
And sand it till your fingers bleed, if you think you've planed it flat
Call yourself apprentice? Lad, I'd be ashamed
If I knew as little, to be known by such a name

Never mind the splinters: In a year or two
You'll have quite forgotten that they ever bothered you
Hands as hard as English oak, muscle, skin and guile
That's what makes a craftsman, but not you, for a while

Cut yourself, you silly sod? Take care, if you please
And don't bleed on the timber: do you think it grows on trees?
Call yourself a craftsman? No, lad, never you
Though if you try your damnedest, one day you might scrape through

So you've got your piece of paper? I hope I've taught you well
And I won't deny you're willing: no doubt time will tell
Call yourself a craftsman? That's as may well be
Another year, or five, or ten, and then perhaps we'll see