Tuesday, March 17, 2015

The Factory

The factory, the factory it never stops
night and day it works
and what is the name of the man next to me
or of that crazy Italian?
I can't ask them
nor can I breathe.

I work at the machine
Two to ten shift
and right from the start
they sent the foreman
to whisper a couple of curt words
in my ear.

"Listen, my immigrant friend
time is money
don't talk to workers
and save your time
don't forget your son
he's hungry and it's a shame."

So bent at my post
I forget my language
I am number eight
that's how everyone knows me
And I keep my name
a secret.

Music: Yannis Markopoulos
Lyrics: Giorgos Skourtis
Vocals: Lakis Halkias
From the album Immigrants, 1974

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