Lyrics Millworker - Emmylou Harris
My
grandfather
was
a
sailor,
he
blew
in
off
the
water
My
father
was
a
farmer
and
I,
his
only
daughter
Took
up
with
a
no-good
millworking
man
from
Massachusetts
Who
dies
from
too
much
whiskey
And
leaves
me
these
three
faces
to
feed
Now
millwork
ain't
easy,
millwork
ain't
hard
Millwork,
it
ain't
nothing
but
an
awful
boring
job
I'm
waiting
for
a
daydream
to
take
me
through
the
morning
And
put
me
in
my
coffee
break
Where
I
can
have
a
sandwich
and
remember
And
it's
me
and
my
machine
For
the
rest
of
the
morning
For
the
rest
of
the
afternoon
For
the
rest
of
my
life
Now
my
mind
begins
to
wander
to
the
days
back
on
the
farm
I
can
see
my
father
smiling
at
me
swinging
on
his
arm
I
can
hear
my
grand-dad's
stories
of
the
storms
out
on
Lake
Erie
Where
vessels
and
cargos
and
fortunes
And
sailor's
lives
were
lost
But
it's
my
life
has
been
wasted
and
I've
been
the
fool
To
let
this
manufacturer
use
my
body
for
a
tool
I
can
ride
home
in
the
evening,
staring
at
my
hands
Swearing
by
my
sorrow
that
a
young
girl
ought
to
stand
a
better
chance
So
may
I
work
the
mills
just
as
long
as
I
am
able
And
never
meet
the
man
whose
name
is
on
the
label
And
it's
me
and
my
machine
For
the
rest
of
the
morning
For
the
rest
of
the
afternoon
For
the
rest
of
my
life
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