Colin Dryden 1969
Colin Dryden moved to Australia in 1965 at the age of 22. He never published an album, and died at 43 in 1986. Margaret & Bob Fagan contributed to the popularity of this song. Most likely autobiographical. Upon arriving in Australia he listed his occupation as “fitter” and apparently worked on building tractors.
You wake up in the morning the sky is black as night Your mother shouting up the stairs and you know she’s winning the fight You tumble down to the breakfast table and grab a bite to eat Then it’s out the door and up the road and through the factory gate Chorus Turning steel how do you feel As in the chuck you spin? If you felt like me you’d roll right out And never roll back in Cold and dark, the morning as you squeeze in through the gate As you clock in, the bell will ring, eight hours is your fate Off comes your coat, up go the sleeves, and “Right, lads” is the cry With one eye on the clock and the other on the lathe, you’ll wish that time could fly But time can’t fly as fast as a lathe, and it’s work you must With the grinding, groaning, spinning metal hotter than the dust And it’s many’s the time I’m with my girl and we’re walking through the park Whilst I’m gazing on that turning steel and a million flying sparks Well Old Tom, he left last week, his final bell did ring With his hair as white as his face beneath and his oily sunken skin Now he’s made a speech and he’s bid farewell to a lifetime working here And as I shook his hand I felt I’d labored forty years When my time comes as come it must and I will leave this place I’ll walk out past the charge-hand’s desk, never turn my face Out of the door and into the sun, I’ll leave it all behind With one regret, for the lads I have left to carry on their grind