I work for that bedrock of stones <br />To buy me only a few stale loafs <br />I work for that pay cheque <br />I work my fingers to the bone <br />Just to give my wife a home <br />To scratch around feeling cold <br />I work for that pay cheque <br />That’s gone even before I’m home <br /> <br />If there’s a God of creation <br />He’s in a minority group of one <br />Yet, he’ll not tolerate discrimination <br />Or Prejudice racism by none. <br />So I promise him I’ll stay strong <br />Face tomorrow by the barrel of gun <br />I’ll stay strong just as long <br />As we go that extra furlong. <br /> <br />I’ll work my fingers to the bone <br />Just to give you my wife a home <br />Trying to keep you from going hungry <br />Trying to keep you from the cold <br />The wolfs baying on your doorstep <br />I’ll work my fingers to the bone <br />Each day just to sidestep <br />Away from the devil waiting outside <br />For me and you, for me and you!<br /><br />Mark Heathcote<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-ll-work-my-fingers-to-the-bone/
