The Song Of The Dignity Of Labour

作词 : Cutler, Frith

As I stood at my

Bench

And the job hurried

By-

While my hands did

Their work

A tear fell from my

Eye,

And another, and soon

Though I couldn't say

Why,

I felt such a sorrow

I wanted to

Die

My hands went on

Working

The work hurried by,

My life like a

Desert,

I empty inside,

And I shook at my bench,

And I cried and I cried

And my hands went on

Working

And the work

Hurried by