Up The Ladder by Ray Bradfield Chorus : Up the ladder, down the ladder, workin' in the lock Stand to me marrers, tackle and the block So it's wheel the barrow, push yer barrow, take a run and tip Make it like a navvie, and mind you never slip! If the Summer dust don't choke you when the ground is iron hard Then the freezing rains of Winter could be your final card It's a hard job, it's a bad job, it's the only job you know You're wedded to that shovel, no matter where you go When you get back to yer shanty, so tired as fit to drop Your belly rules yer head and it's down the Tommy Shop For the bread that's full of weevils and the meat that's tough as boots And beer that helps you numb the pain of never having roots Oh the flash girls always come around, when you've had your pay A 'little bit of somethin' else' helps pass the night away But with the mornin' comes the reckoning, empty pockets aching head! Another stretch of cut to build before you get to bed We're the men of fashion, we're the men of style We're the men of empty bellies from auld Erin's Isle A hundred tons of spoil we shift, in barra loads each day And with yer wives and daughter, we've been making hay! Now the job is coming to an end, it's time to take your leave Or will you 'jump the brush' with Alice, since she's catered to yer needs For it's good to have a 'mucker' when yer goin' on the tramp And a body to curl up with when you find another camp! Recorded on :
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