Drifting Through The Days

Sitting in the evening

Dreaming of the old times

When a job was there for the steady and strong

I see old faces flickering in the firelight

Faces of condemned men who did no wrong

Drifting through the days

Drifting through the days

A man needs work for his own salvation

A man feels reward for his sweat and his pain

But life's satisfaction has passed us over

And many in this town won't see work again

Drifting through the days

Drifting through the days

I've stood at the gates of a hundred factories

Walked off to other towns looking for pay

Now my hope is gone and I'm crushed like the others

The army of forgotten men, mouldering away

Drifting through the days

Drifting through the days

Drifting through the days