Up The Ladder

by Ray Bradfield

boat

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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!
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