Millworker Bette Midler

Now my grandfather was a sailor
He blew in off the water
My father was a farmer
And I his only daughter

Took up with a no good
Millworking man from Massachusetts
Who died from too much whiskey
And leaves me these three faces to feed

Millwork ain't easy, millwork ain't hard
Millwork, it ain't nothin'
But an awful, boring job
I'm waiting for a daydream
To take me through the mornin';
Put me in my coffee break
Where I can have a sandwhich and remember

And it's me and my machine
For the rest of the mornin'
For the rest of the afternoon
For the rest of my life

Now my mind begins to wander
To the days back on the farm
I can see my father smilin'
And me swingin' on his arm