Sparrows Point

My name is william taylor

I was born in '24

too late to know the Great Fallen

in time to know the great fall

When my father died of money

my mother lived in spite

we laughed when nothing was funny

and how we wept when nothing was left

So I left there in boomtown

when I reached fifteen years

and I travelled mostly northeast

with my head held mostly down

'Cause they said there was more in Baltimore

where those shipyards never close

you can sell the Man your labor

and send the money home

Broadway found me penniless

and the mission found me last

they gave me a coat and three days rest

and when I awoke and left

a shroud of steam surrounded me

and I was borne away

and I found myself at Sparrows Point

with a slingshot in my hand.

And standing around me

two thousand idle hands

their heads bowed low, their hopes not high

their hearts weaned of their homes

and their pockets full of photographs

and their eyes full of goodbyes

I took my place among my kind

and I held my place in line

Now I'm twenty one and well employed

and I send home most of my pay

which leaves plenty left for cigarrettes

to help me pass the days

with beloved friends surrounding me

the cold streets so far away

three days west of Normandy

a rifle in my hand.