Oh it might be today, or tomorrow, or the next

That i can be free of my back breaking work

It might not dangerous, but i feel it is so

It’s not flowers i’m smelling but putrid black coal

With soot on my nose, and no shoes on my feet

I can't help but feel that there is more to this life

Than the shrieks of the whistles and the cries of the brakes

But here in this demented dreamland, there seems no escape 

Everyonce and awhile, some rich fancy lady

Will drop a few coins, an orange, a rose

I’ll take any color that comes my way

Any break from my life of boring and gray

One of these days, I’ll hop on a train

Ride far, ride fast, ride fearlessly away

Maybe I’ll go to to a village in france

Or live with the nuns in germany

But here I am safe, as safe as it is 

This work brings in money, and money means food

So my freedom is a fire in the back of my mind 

And is fed with the flames of my dreams.