trad
I ain’t gonna work in a factory, greasy on my clothes
I ain’t gonna work in a factory, splinters in my toes
Chorus:
Pity me, my darlin’, pity me I say
Pity me, my darlin’, carry me away
No more I’ll wear that dirty dress, greasy all around
No more I’ll wear that dirty hat, goes all in the ground
No more I’ll hang my bobbins up, no more I’ll take them down
No more I’ll hang my bobbins up, I’m leaving this old town
No more I’ll hear that whistle bow, to call me up so soon
No more I’ll hear that whistle blow, to call me from my home
No more I’ll hear that spinning wheel, rolling o’er my head
No more I’ll hear that spinning wheel, call me from my bedÂ