Pat Anderson


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Hey, what do you say, heard it on the news today
Over in Martinsville, they’re closing down the textile mill
Alone at the end of this bar, sits a man and he’s taking it hard
Worked that production line
Ever since ‘seventy-nine
He’s done his time

When the night comes calling, he feels he’s falling
Down like Blue Ridge rain
Cold, it’s a pity, Lord, when the whiskey’s
Gone but the man remains
Leaves him burning, the world keeps turning
Around or so they say
Faith not reason, keeps him believing
Waiting on the light of day

So, where does he go, at fifty-three years old
Too young yet to die, he’s getting too old to hire
He’s never been one to pray, but a man’s got bills to pay
You can’t draw blood from a stone
Union work’s all he’s known
Now he’s on his own

You know it’s a crying shame
The liquor won’t ease the pain
Now all the plans he’s made, sees them fade

2010 All songs written and published by Pat Anderson unless otherwise noted.

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