adventures in dysthymia

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Job, a lyric


verse 1:
A Motel Six somewhere in Michigan,
snow is pressing deep outside;
traveled here through winter dark,
one more weary Greyhound ride.
Heard that there might be a job,
Heard there might be a reason to go;
Yes, I heard the factory might reopen
but the last word that I heard was no.

pre-chorus 1:
And there’s not much work to be found
ever since the economy slowed;
is this only another stop
on my never ending road?

They say they’ll hire again, tomorrow,
the plants will open again, tomorrow,
if the banks just let us borrow,
but all we seem to do is borrow
against our future,
against our future,
against tomorrow.

verse 2:
A motel room I can’t afford,
just enough left to pay my fare;
came to work but I’m headed back home —
might as well be headed nowhere.

And the only ones back there making money
are on the streets selling dope;
you know they aren’t all that much different
from the politicians selling hope.

pre-chorus 2:
No, there’s not much work around
ever since the economy slowed,
and this is just another stop
on my never ending road.

repeat chorus

Stephen Brooke ©2013

That's job as in 'employment,' but maybe it should be Job as in the Old Testament?  :) A song lyric, rough-ish still -- there's always stuff that can be changed, you know -- and with the music more-or-less written. As is typical for me, I wrote some of the words, then the music came, and then I finished the words. Now for a bit of polishing...or maybe just stick it in a folder and forget about it for a while.

I rarely write topical songs, but this one forced itself on me. The impetus came from a few lines my niece (the talented Mean Mary James) spoke in an interview about being on tour (the Motel Six bit) and I just had to use the idea. Somehow it went from a concept about a touring musician to a guy looking for work.

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