Monthly Archives: March 2014

Workin’ In The Factory

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This may look like a bunch of hair playing guitar but it is in fact Mr. Sexsmith and he came to my windowless messy studio recently (as did Meg Tenant, Ronley Teper, Drew Smith and Brodie West) to play a song by Kyp Harness for a movie about Acorn Interational entitled Citizen Wealth.

The director asked me for a “labour” song. Glad they said it could be a cover because Kyp Harness has better labour songs. I covered his cinematic  Workin’ In The Factory. Truth is Kyp has the whole labour song market sewn up. How else does he afford that shiny red Porsche?

My thoughts when doing a cover song are to make it very different from the original. There are still some whacky repairs I must do and some questions about how and what to reveal when and where in order to sustain 5 verses. You have to remind yourself when doing film related music that after all is said and done, they might not even use too much of it. They might just use 10 seconds of it.

This is where it’s at so far.

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WORKIN’ IN THE FACTORY

I wake up every morning, six o’clock sharp
I have a cup of coffee and I get into my car
I drive downtown and I pull in through the gate
The foreman at the door says I’m five minutes late
He drives me to my knees and he tells me it’s a sin
Then he makes me sign a form that says I won’t do it again

I’m workin’ in the factory, workin’ in the factory
Someday all of this will be just a bad memory
But right now I’m just doin’ time
Workin’ in the factory

My job ain’t bad and I got a good boss
For every week I work he gives me two days off
Dental plan, vacation, and a twenty year pin
And when I die he sends a letter to my next of kin
Things could be worse but I really don’t know how
I’d like to tell you all about it but I can’t right now because I’m

I’m workin’ in the factory, workin’ in the factory
Someday all of this will be just a bad memory
But right now I’m just doin’ time
Workin’ in the factory

Here comes the boss, diamond rings on every hand
And a little speck of dirt upon his white cotton pants
He says “Come on, get to it, boys, I wanna see you sweat!”
And I say “Kiss my ass”, but underneath my breath
‘Cause he’s the wizard of finance and I’m a workin’ dog
He’s the big wheel and I’m just a cog

I’m workin’ in the factory, workin’ in the factory
Someday all of this will be just a bad memory
But right now I’m just doin’ time
Workin’ in the factory

The guy who works beside me, they call him Friendly Steve
He’s got big long arms that hang down to his knees
He never says yes and he never says no
He just hangs around waitin’ to be told where to go
You just have to take one look at him to tell there’s nothing there
But three more years of this and I won’t even care

I’ll be workin’ in the factory, workin’ in the factory
Someday all of this will be just a bad memory
But right now I’m just doin’ time
Workin’ in the factory

I’ve heard about the palm trees that grow down in the south
I’ve heard about the beauty that the poets write about
I’ve heard about the fantasies that many men have wrote
Where everybody shares and no-one has to bear the load
I’ve heard your tales of freedom and the brotherhood of men
But don’t you know that none of it makes any difference?

When you’re workin’ in the factory, when you’re workin’ in the factory
Someday all of this will be just a bad memory
But right now I’m just doin’ time workin’ in the factory

Of Course I Went To Law School

One thing these years is constant, enjoying Warren Zevon

Mr. Bad Example

I started as an alter boy, working at the church
Learning all my holy moves, doing some research
Which led me to a cash box, labeled “Children’s Fund”
I’d leave the change, and tuck the bills inside my cummerbund

I got a part-time job at my father’s carpet store
Laying tackless stripping, and housewives by the score
I loaded up their furniture, and took it to Spokane
And auctioned off every last naugahyde divan

I’m very well aquainted with the seven deadly sins
I keep a busy schedule trying to fit them in
I’m proud to be a glutton, and I don’t have time for sloth
I’m greedy, and I’m angry, and I don’t care who I cross

I’m Mr. Bad Example, intruder in the dirt
I like to have a good time, and I don’t care who gets hurt
I’m Mr. Bad Example, take a look at me
I’ll live to be a hundred, and go down in infamy

Of course I went to law school and took a law degree
And counseled all my clients to plead insanity
Then worked in hair replacement, swindling the bald
Where very few are chosen, and fewer still are called

Then on to Monte Carlo to play chemin de fer
I threw away the fortune I made transplanting hair
I put my last few francs down on a prostitute
Who took me up to her room to perform the flag salute

Whereupon I stole her passport and her wig
And headed for the airport and the midnight flight, you dig?
And fourteen hours later I was down in Adelaide
Looking through the want ads sipping Fosters in the shade

I opened up an agency somewhere down the line
To hire aboriginals to work the opal mines
But I attached their wages and took a whopping cut
And whisked away their workman’s comp and pauperized the lot

I’m Mr. Bad Example, intruder in the dirt
I like to have a good time, and I don’t care who gets hurt
I’m Mr. Bad Example, take a look at me
I’ll live to be a hundred and go down in infamy

I bought a first class ticket on Malaysian Air
And landed in Sri Lanka none the worse for wear
I’m thinking of retiring from all my dirty deals
I’ll see you in the next life, wake me up for meals.