Shuttle & Loom
Down from the mountains I was sixteen
Milk cows, chickens, taters and beans
Sweet spring water from out of the hill
I gave it all up, and I went to the mill
Shuttle and loom, bobbin and frame
Sometimes I don’t even know my own name
What in the world is a woman to do
When all that she’s got are her shuttle and loom
Shuttle and loom
Hoot owl, graveyard, whistle and sing
Still tell a joke when you’re working on swing
But working the day shift, don’t make a sound
Running so scared ‘cause the boss is around
Where are the mountains, where are the streams
Where are the rivers I fish in my dreams
Where are the songs my family sung
Where are the days I was carefree and young
Counting the minutes, counting the days
Counting the years as my life slips away
Swiftly like water out of the hill
Lord help the woman who works in the mill