Toil
Flatfoot 56Version1
90
Chords in this song
Strum
D-DU-UDU
Upon this lowly railroad spike my hammer swung and fell.
Down the mighty Mississipp' where the raging waters swell.
In the corner of that factory, a dark man-made hell,
I'll be sitting there in my snare making what they sell.
With a silver spoon breaking my teeth,
the boys on the line working just to eat.
Are you picturing the stories that I sing?
A child working day and night,
a father turned into a ghostly sight,
the wage slave knows so well that hopeless strain
of a poor man just trying to remain
as he pays his toll of pain.
From the dear old age of Adam
to the workers of Boaz,
We've been doomed to sing this crazy song,
yet it's made me who I am.
From the steel workers in Pittsburgh,
to the trucker and his load,
all feeding that old fat cat
just hoping he'll explode.
With a silver spoon breaking my teeth,
the boys on the line working just to eat.
Are you picturing the stories that I sing?
A child working day and night,
a father turned into a ghostly sight,
the wage slave knows so well that hopeless strain
of a poor man just trying to remain
as he pays his toll of pain.
We've been working for far too long.
We've been doomed to hear this lowly song for our sons.
Our sweat must be working just to fall.
I'm a slave to that whistle call.
I'm a slave to that whistle call.
(Quiet down)
From the dear old age of Adam
to the workers of Boaz,
We've been doomed to sing this crazy song,
yet it's made me who I am.
From the steel workers in Pittsburgh,
to the trucker and his load,
all feeding that old fat cat
just hoping he'll explode.
With a silver spoon breaking my teeth,
the boys on the line working just to eat.
Are you picturing the stories that I sing?
A child working day and night,
a father turned into a ghostly sight,
the wage slave knows so well that hopeless strain
of a poor man just trying to remain
as he pays his toll of pain.
(back to norm speed)
We've been working for far too long.
We've been doomed to hear this crazy song for our sons.
Our sweat must be working just to fall.
I'm a slave to that whistle call.
I'm a slave to that whistle call.
I'm a slave.
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Readable chord sheet for Toil by Flatfoot 56
[C2] [G] [C2] [G] U[C2]pon this lowly railroad spike my hammer swung and fell. D[G]own the mighty Mississipp' where the raging waters swell. I[C2]n the corner of that factory, a dark man-made hell, I[G]'ll be sitting there in my snare making what they sell. W[C2]ith a silver spoon breaking my teeth, t[Em]he boys on the line wo[G]rking just to eat. A[C2]re you picturing the s[G]tories that I s[D]ing? A c[C2]hild working day and night, a f[Em]ather turned into a g[G]hostly sight, th[C2]e wage slave knows so w[G]ell that hopeless s[D]train o[C2]f a poor man just [G]trying to r[D]emain as he pays his toll of pain. [Em] [G] [D] [Em] [C] [D] [C2]From the dear old age of Adam t[G]o the workers of Boaz, W[C2]e've been doomed to sing this crazy song, y[G]et it's made me who I [D]am. F[C2]rom the steel workers in Pittsburgh, t[G]o the trucker and his load, a[C2]ll feeding that old fat cat j[G]ust hoping he'll explode. W[C2]ith a silver spoon breaking my teeth, t[Em]he boys on the line wo[G]rking just to eat. A[C2]re you picturing the s[G]tories that I s[D]ing? A c[C2]hild working day and night, a f[Em]ather turned into a g[G]hostly sight, th[C2]e wage slave knows so w[G]ell that hopeless s[D]train o[C2]f a poor man just [G]trying to r[D]emain as he pays his toll of pain. [Em] [G] [D] [Em] [C] [D] W[Em]e've been working for [G]far too lo[D]ng. W[Em]e've been doomed to hear this lowly song [G]for our so[D]ns. O[Em]ur sweat must be working [G]just to fa[D]ll. I[C2]'m a slave to that w[G]histle ca[D]ll. I[C2]'m a slave to that w[G]histle ca[D]ll. (Quiet down) [C2]From the dear old age of Adam t[G]o the workers of Boaz, W[C2]e've been doomed to sing this crazy song, y[G]et it's made me who I [D]am. F[C2]rom the steel workers in Pittsburgh, t[Em]o the trucker and his l[G]oad, a[C2]ll feeding that old fat cat j[G]ust hoping he'll explode. W[C2]ith a silver spoon breaking my teeth, t[Em]he boys on the line wo[G]rking just to eat. A[C2]re you picturing the s[G]tories that I s[D]ing? A c[C2]hild working day and night, a f[Em]ather turned into a g[G]hostly sight, th[C2]e wage slave knows so w[G]ell that hopeless s[D]train o[C2]f a poor man just [G]trying to r[D]emain as he pays his toll of pain. (back to norm speed) [Em] [G] [D] [Em] [C] [D] W[Em]e've been working for f[G]ar too l[D]ong. W[Em]e've been doomed to hear this c[G]razy song for our s[D]ons. O[Em]ur sweat must be wor[G]king just to f[D]all. I[C2]'m a slave to that w[G]histle c[D]all. I[C2]'m a slave to that w[G]histle c[D]all. I'm a sla[Em]ve.