Foundryman foundryman and rigger
I serve my craft with skill and pride
The furnaces barked at the sun
The well has sparked the night
We moulded ribs and shaped the keels
We forged a nation's fleets
From white -hot rivers of tungsten steel
The shipyard's lying idle now
And rust flakes off the cranes
Seagulls echo through empty docks
But a silent power remains
A cold north wind tugs at my coat
As I walk these oily sands
My brother played the ponies,
Sailed for Cairo in forty -one,
the Third Light Horse Brigade.
Rode the winds of fortune,
cast his life in a two -up game.
I carry his coins, they were in his hat
From Tobruk to El Alamein
There's dust upon his photograph
A young face bold and tan
He told me always judge the odds
His bones lie out at Sandgate,
where the waste creeks meet the sea
There's rusted cars and salvage yards
where Brummies once ran free
The Past is another country,
the maps are torn and frayed
Steel is cast for Wall Street now,
and ships are foreign made
Boys grow lean and restless,
see the anger in their eyes
see the gulf grow deep and wide
Politicians crow with promises,
in a year it's blood from stone
This dusty town grows sad and weary,
In his shadow walks a dreamer