CROOKED JACK



Come Irishmen both young and stern

With adventure in your soul

There are better ways to spend your days

Than in working down a hole



I was tall and true, all of 6 foot 2

But they broke me across the back

By a name I'm known and it's not my own

They call me Crooked Jack



The ganger's blue-eyed boy was I

Big Jack could do no wrong

And the reason simply was because

I could work hard hours and long



I've seen men old before their time

Their faces drawn and gray

I never thought so soon would mine

Be lined the self same way



I've cursed the day that I went away

To work on the hydro dams

For sweat and tears or hopes and fears

Bound up in shuttering jams



They say that honest toil is good

For the spirit and the soul

But believe me boys it's for sweat and blood

That they want you down a hole



@work

recorded by Dick Gaughin

filename[ CROOKJAC

SF

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