I'm just an old powerhouse man,
who's nearin' the end of his time.
Just lean up against my panel board,
I'll tell you about it in rhyme.
To you I'm just a has been;
a man who has had his day.
But I'm standin' here a tellin' you,
it's me who paved the way!
The work we did was harder than yours,
But we was a lot tougher than you.
The fly ash was deeper, the clinkers was bigger,
and there was a lot more of them too.
The work we did way back then,
would make us hot and black.
We didn't have them mechanical things,
to take the strain off our back.
We worked with a shovel, punch bar, and hook,
to make them boilers do their part.
You sissies would've died, if it had'n been you,
but we were tougher from the very start.
I swear there was twenty-nine hours of work,
in every blessed day.
And seventeen days in every week,
but no where near the pay.
We'd bust a gut, gittin' our job done,
and no man would dare to cry.
Then at last when payday come,
'twas hardly enough to git by.
The bosses we had were meaner and tougher,
than any you've got today.
We all had to work from start to finish,
nobody had time to play.
I'm tellin' you the way it was,
can't nobody say it ain't true.
But soon I'll be retirin' boys,
and the whole thing will be up to you.
So practice your lies and remember them well,
for the time will come when you'll say.
"come here young feller and listen to me,
I'll tell you how it was in my day."
Well, I've rambled on long enough,
I'm plumb worn out, I'll confess.
But you just hang in there until I'm gone,
and you'll be the old timer, I guess.
Copyright © 1992 Roy Lovelace. All Rights Reserved.
