Red Lead

Lyrics by Brieve Morison

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How the white hot cinders
make the sunset seem so pale
As black buckets climb
the backbone of the whale
And the harpoon railway tracks
that glisten in the light
Running from the mines up North
of high grade hematite

A belch of smoke dims the light
As with the moon it confers
A gash of sparks joins the stars
From the red hot Bessemers
And the humming spokes and chains
Of the wheels of the night shift
Through the unslept stolen hours
I can hear them drift.

The tracks that cross the road
From the open casting sheds
Are destined for the shipyards
Steel cradle beds
And underneath the arclight
Underneath the steel
Young men serve their time with tools
Their fathers first did feel.

In a cold grey western morning
The tide brings in the rain
Men and women factory bound
From the town that bears its name
And they leave the streets of battles
Of men and famous ships
And crossed the bridge they built themselves
To where the heavy hammer hits

From the carpenters and welders
The slingers and their crews
The broken fingers twisted backs
And Sunday lunchtime booze.
The working in all weathers the
Stain of the red lead
The 7-30 siren drives the late ones from their beds
The 7-30 siren drives the late ones from their bed