The Idiot
[00:00.000] 作曲 : Stan Rogers
[00:00.670]I often take these night shift walks when the foreman's not around
[00:06.768]I turn my back on the cooling stacks and make for open ground
[00:13.421]Far out beyond the tank farm fence where the gas flare makes no sound
[00:20.052]I forget the stink and I always think back to that Eastern town
[00:26.709]I remember back six years ago, this Western life I chose
[00:33.344]And every day, the news would say some factory's going to close
[00:39.976]Well, I could have stayed to take the Dole, but I'm not one of those
[00:46.394]I take nothing free, and that makes me an idiot, I suppose
[00:53.025]So I bid farewell to the Eastern town I never more will see
[00:59.397]But work I must so I eat this dust and breathe refinery
[01:06.069]Oh, I miss the green and the woods and streams and I don't like cowboy clothes
[01:12.466]But I like being free and that makes me an idiot I suppose
[01:19.099]So come all you fine young fellows who've been beaten to the ground
[01:25.759]This western life's no paaradise, but it's better than lying down
[01:32.132]Oh, the streets aren't clean, and there's nothing green, and the hills are dirty brown
[01:38.533]But the government Dole will rot your soul back there in your home town
[01:45.165]So bid farewell to the Eastern town you never more will see
[01:51.535]There's self-respect and a steady cheque in this refinery
[01:57.934]You will miss the green and the woods and streams and the dust will fill your nose
[02:04.306]But you'll be free, and just like me, an idiot, I suppose
[02:13.332]These are the words I tell myself
[02:17.323]When I miss my own hometown
[02:20.511]I tell myself that I'm doing right by turning that welfare down
[02:27.701]But now I see for you and me
[02:32.690]That I want those woods and streams
[02:35.367]For I owe my life to this workers strife
[02:38.806]Why can't just be free
[00:00.670]I often take these night shift walks when the foreman's not around
[00:06.768]I turn my back on the cooling stacks and make for open ground
[00:13.421]Far out beyond the tank farm fence where the gas flare makes no sound
[00:20.052]I forget the stink and I always think back to that Eastern town
[00:26.709]I remember back six years ago, this Western life I chose
[00:33.344]And every day, the news would say some factory's going to close
[00:39.976]Well, I could have stayed to take the Dole, but I'm not one of those
[00:46.394]I take nothing free, and that makes me an idiot, I suppose
[00:53.025]So I bid farewell to the Eastern town I never more will see
[00:59.397]But work I must so I eat this dust and breathe refinery
[01:06.069]Oh, I miss the green and the woods and streams and I don't like cowboy clothes
[01:12.466]But I like being free and that makes me an idiot I suppose
[01:19.099]So come all you fine young fellows who've been beaten to the ground
[01:25.759]This western life's no paaradise, but it's better than lying down
[01:32.132]Oh, the streets aren't clean, and there's nothing green, and the hills are dirty brown
[01:38.533]But the government Dole will rot your soul back there in your home town
[01:45.165]So bid farewell to the Eastern town you never more will see
[01:51.535]There's self-respect and a steady cheque in this refinery
[01:57.934]You will miss the green and the woods and streams and the dust will fill your nose
[02:04.306]But you'll be free, and just like me, an idiot, I suppose
[02:13.332]These are the words I tell myself
[02:17.323]When I miss my own hometown
[02:20.511]I tell myself that I'm doing right by turning that welfare down
[02:27.701]But now I see for you and me
[02:32.690]That I want those woods and streams
[02:35.367]For I owe my life to this workers strife
[02:38.806]Why can't just be free
作曲 : Stan Rogers
I often take these night shift walks when the foreman's not around
I turn my back on the cooling stacks and make for open ground
Far out beyond the tank farm fence where the gas flare makes no sound
I forget the stink and I always think back to that Eastern town
I remember back six years ago, this Western life I chose
And every day, the news would say some factory's going to close
Well, I could have stayed to take the Dole, but I'm not one of those
I take nothing free, and that makes me an idiot, I suppose
So I bid farewell to the Eastern town I never more will see
But work I must so I eat this dust and breathe refinery
Oh, I miss the green and the woods and streams and I don't like cowboy clothes
But I like being free and that makes me an idiot I suppose
So come all you fine young fellows who've been beaten to the ground
This western life's no paaradise, but it's better than lying down
Oh, the streets aren't clean, and there's nothing green, and the hills are dirty brown
But the government Dole will rot your soul back there in your home town
So bid farewell to the Eastern town you never more will see
There's self-respect and a steady cheque in this refinery
You will miss the green and the woods and streams and the dust will fill your nose
But you'll be free, and just like me, an idiot, I suppose
These are the words I tell myself
When I miss my own hometown
I tell myself that I'm doing right by turning that welfare down
But now I see for you and me
That I want those woods and streams
For I owe my life to this workers strife
Why can't just be free
I often take these night shift walks when the foreman's not around
I turn my back on the cooling stacks and make for open ground
Far out beyond the tank farm fence where the gas flare makes no sound
I forget the stink and I always think back to that Eastern town
I remember back six years ago, this Western life I chose
And every day, the news would say some factory's going to close
Well, I could have stayed to take the Dole, but I'm not one of those
I take nothing free, and that makes me an idiot, I suppose
So I bid farewell to the Eastern town I never more will see
But work I must so I eat this dust and breathe refinery
Oh, I miss the green and the woods and streams and I don't like cowboy clothes
But I like being free and that makes me an idiot I suppose
So come all you fine young fellows who've been beaten to the ground
This western life's no paaradise, but it's better than lying down
Oh, the streets aren't clean, and there's nothing green, and the hills are dirty brown
But the government Dole will rot your soul back there in your home town
So bid farewell to the Eastern town you never more will see
There's self-respect and a steady cheque in this refinery
You will miss the green and the woods and streams and the dust will fill your nose
But you'll be free, and just like me, an idiot, I suppose
These are the words I tell myself
When I miss my own hometown
I tell myself that I'm doing right by turning that welfare down
But now I see for you and me
That I want those woods and streams
For I owe my life to this workers strife
Why can't just be free
