Well you don't know my name
But you sure know my face
You’ve seen me a million times
In some laboring place
Although we're worlds apart
I’m in your daily plan
For I bring you fame and fortune
With my own two working hands
We’re America’s poor
Oh yes, we’re living right here
And poverty’s door
It just won’t hold anymore
No name or no face
We have lost our plane
We fell through the cracks
Looking for the tracks
Of the American Dream
There’s a man on the corner
With a tin cup in his hand
Though he fought in two wars
His nightmares are still Vietnam
They gave him medals and promises
Now the streets and a shelter’s his home
He just stands there in rags
With his medals and begs
And wonders what on Earth went wrong
All the factories are closing, going down where the labor is cheap
And they’ve cheated their workers, out of pensions and their lifelong dreams
Too old to start over, they will lose everything that they own
But south of the border a new factory’s in order
To cheat their workers again.
But you sure know my face
You’ve seen me a million times
In some laboring place
Although we're worlds apart
I’m in your daily plan
For I bring you fame and fortune
With my own two working hands
We’re America’s poor
Oh yes, we’re living right here
And poverty’s door
It just won’t hold anymore
No name or no face
We have lost our plane
We fell through the cracks
Looking for the tracks
Of the American Dream
There’s a man on the corner
With a tin cup in his hand
Though he fought in two wars
His nightmares are still Vietnam
They gave him medals and promises
Now the streets and a shelter’s his home
He just stands there in rags
With his medals and begs
And wonders what on Earth went wrong
All the factories are closing, going down where the labor is cheap
And they’ve cheated their workers, out of pensions and their lifelong dreams
Too old to start over, they will lose everything that they own
But south of the border a new factory’s in order
To cheat their workers again.
envoyé par Dead End - 4/9/2012 - 11:21
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Hazel Dickens
“Ho cominciato a scrivere questa canzone nel 2002 durante tutti quegli scandali in cui i colletti bianchi delle grandi banche rubavano alla gente che li pagava per proteggerli e mentre un sacco di lavoratori venivano sbattuti fuori dalle imprese che delocalizzavano appena oltre la frontiera col Messico. E tutto questo solo per denaro, potere ed avidità.”
Dal libro “Working Girl Blues”, scritto insieme a Bill C. Malone e pubblicata nel 2008, autobiografia di questa straordinaria cantautrice e musicista bluegrass del West Virginia, scomparsa nel 2011.