[Harmonica intro]
My old man, – and his old man
And his old man still worked in the mills..
And factories of Lawrence.
On the Merrimack River
Where the water color changed depending on..
The color of the uniform.
Since the turn of the century
The din of the factory has drowned…
drowned in sounds of war,
Drowned in sounds of war.
In the dusty morning hour –
He took a lunch pail from the table
And he walked down to the river cause he was wiling and able.
Until he got to drinking
and turned his back upon the family.
Then my father took his place there
He was only 14…
When he went to the factory
to a world of broken dreams
of soot and steam.
He walked down to the factory..
See he was only just 14.
He was a bright but unread boy
who dreamed of doing better things
then stitching soldiers britches –So he left when he was 17...
Legs as fast as lightening
He had a good hand on the trigger
So they shipped him overseas -to do a tour in Korea..
He was a soldier at 19
spit shine polished Marine
Sharpest thing you'd ever seen
A killer at 19...
My old man, – and his old man
And his old man still worked in the mills..
And factories of Lawrence.
On the Merrimack River
Where the water color changed depending on..
The color of the uniform.
Since the turn of the century
The din of the factory has drowned…
drowned in sounds of war..
(Drowned in sounds of war..)
Now he and mom were married
and stationed in Morocco
Colleen and I were born there
then we moved to San Diego.
Outside that Aircraft carrier
he took me in his arms
and he gave me one last kiss
as he left for Vietnam..
The war in Viet Nam
Agent orange and napalm
Burned their homes,
burned their farms
Man, we did those people harm.
My old man, – and his old man
And his old man still worked in the mills..
And factories of Lawrence.
On the Merrimack River
Where the water color changed depending on..
The color of the uniform.
Since the turn of the century
The din of the factory has drowned…
drowned in sounds of war..
My old man
has two legs of sand
Agent Orange fills his veins
in a nursing home in Maine...
Yet he's still running up that hill
running home from the Mill.
The dinner bell ringing
from his momma's front porch..
And there's a man like me
crying overseas
wishing for a father that was taken long ago..
What could have been he'll never know
So what have we to show?
Except generations full of sorrow..
My old man, – and his old man
And his old man still worked in the mills..
And factories of Lawrence
On the Merrimack River
Where the water color changed depending on..
The color of the uniform..
Since the turn of the century
the din of the factory
has all but drowned in sounds of war
But, please tell me what for.
My old man, – and his old man
And his old man still worked in the mills..
And factories of Lawrence.
On the Merrimack River
Where the water color changed depending on..
The color of the uniform.
Since the turn of the century
The din of the factory has drowned…
drowned in sounds of war,
Drowned in sounds of war.
In the dusty morning hour –
He took a lunch pail from the table
And he walked down to the river cause he was wiling and able.
Until he got to drinking
and turned his back upon the family.
Then my father took his place there
He was only 14…
When he went to the factory
to a world of broken dreams
of soot and steam.
He walked down to the factory..
See he was only just 14.
He was a bright but unread boy
who dreamed of doing better things
then stitching soldiers britches –So he left when he was 17...
Legs as fast as lightening
He had a good hand on the trigger
So they shipped him overseas -to do a tour in Korea..
He was a soldier at 19
spit shine polished Marine
Sharpest thing you'd ever seen
A killer at 19...
My old man, – and his old man
And his old man still worked in the mills..
And factories of Lawrence.
On the Merrimack River
Where the water color changed depending on..
The color of the uniform.
Since the turn of the century
The din of the factory has drowned…
drowned in sounds of war..
(Drowned in sounds of war..)
Now he and mom were married
and stationed in Morocco
Colleen and I were born there
then we moved to San Diego.
Outside that Aircraft carrier
he took me in his arms
and he gave me one last kiss
as he left for Vietnam..
The war in Viet Nam
Agent orange and napalm
Burned their homes,
burned their farms
Man, we did those people harm.
My old man, – and his old man
And his old man still worked in the mills..
And factories of Lawrence.
On the Merrimack River
Where the water color changed depending on..
The color of the uniform.
Since the turn of the century
The din of the factory has drowned…
drowned in sounds of war..
My old man
has two legs of sand
Agent Orange fills his veins
in a nursing home in Maine...
Yet he's still running up that hill
running home from the Mill.
The dinner bell ringing
from his momma's front porch..
And there's a man like me
crying overseas
wishing for a father that was taken long ago..
What could have been he'll never know
So what have we to show?
Except generations full of sorrow..
My old man, – and his old man
And his old man still worked in the mills..
And factories of Lawrence
On the Merrimack River
Where the water color changed depending on..
The color of the uniform..
Since the turn of the century
the din of the factory
has all but drowned in sounds of war
But, please tell me what for.
Contributed by giorgio - 2013/5/21 - 20:01
We're always pleased when our authors write to us, dear Frank.. Thank you very much to you for your great song!
giorgio - 2013/12/9 - 14:54
One of my favorite songs, stunning really. . . One of the rare pacifist messages that stands on hallowed ground common to doves and hawks -- when good young soldiers have their lives destroyed, it's tragic -- and that tack, uniting two passionate and polarized positions, unites the energy in the room, making it all resonate with the message. Frank that is a great song, thanks for what you do.
Ellis Ralph - 2013/12/9 - 22:45
I'm so thankful that you can hear the message. This song is both a story of my father and my life.
Thank God that my son is both an American and Italian citizen. Hopefully he will not have to witness this American rite of passage because of this.
Thank God that my son is both an American and Italian citizen. Hopefully he will not have to witness this American rite of passage because of this.
Frank Cable - 2014/1/19 - 06:09
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Lyrics & Music by Frank Cable