Factory Girl

Ralph McTellRalph McTell 

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Ralph McTell

Ralph McTell (born Ralph May in Farnborough, Kent, England, 3 December 1944 and raised in Croydon) is an English singer-songwriter and acoustic guitar player who has been an influential figure on the UK folk music scene since the 1960s. more »

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Hurrying across the bridge before the siren calls.
This morning she's chasing her shadow, along the factory wall.
And through the gate, where she will wait in line.
To cross the yard, to clock her card in time.

And under her scarf, her hair set in curls,
The day begins for the factory girl.
For a while the girls try to talk, but their voices soon drown in the din.
Their eyes watch their hands do the work, and a new day's rhythm begins.

No change today, like yesterday, the same
But dinner soon, then afternoon, then home.
Then hurrying home in the fading light,
The factory girl is going out tonight.

Her momma says "Don't be late, you've got to get up again before eight".
"Yes", she cries, but there's joy in her eyes,
As she runs down the path through the gate.
And out on the rainy streets hoping that the night will last.

No whispering palms on the beach, for her,
Just the swish of the cars going past.
And she believes no one could feel the same,
Touching and whispering in the rain.

And the rain takes away her beautiful curls.
The night is soon gone for the factory girl.
And hurrying across the bridge before the siren calls.
This morning she's skipping the puddles, all along the factory wall.

A starling sings, he shakes his wings, she smiles.
Then at the gate, she hesitates, for a while.
Then from inside the gates, the sirens roar.
And across the yard runs the factory girl.

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