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Barclay James Harvest, The Everyone Is Everybody Else Mill Boys Sky was black, lord, rain came pouring down Number 12 bus shuffling down shaw road way Mules keep spinning, black-faced lifers peck the ground Sun comes up like lightning over tandle hills grey We are mill boys, stuck on the hill boys Stuck in the mill boys, 'till our dying day We are mill boys, stuck on the hill boys Stuck in the mill boys, 'till our dying day Cotton mill will get you, boy, she'll take you to your grave Tell you boy to use your head, apprentice out your days You'll end up a nothing, buy, with cotton as your trade Sun comes up like lightning over tandle hills grey We are mill boys, stuck on the hill boys Stuck in the mill boys, 'till our dying day We are mill boys, stuck on the hill boys Stuck in the mill boys, 'till our dying day It's easy to see a poor boy's blues When he's working every day It's harder to be there in his shoes He was born to be that way |
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