I’ve done my time
But not in jail
For forty years
With my lunch pail
I worked the line
By building cars
On Friday nights
We went to bars
A lot of changes
I have seen
When women came
The men were mean
We joined the union
To have a voice
Not to mention
We had no choice
We went on strike
When we were told
The picket line
Was always cold
Living off savings
That went very fast
Uncertain how long
The strike would last
It finally happened
The plant shut down
More unemployment
Filled our town
A foreign place
Is where they went
Stores would close
No money was spent
Outlawing unions
That dictated pay
Foreigners woked
Both night and day
I made the cars
You like to drive
Forced to retire
Yet I'll survive
By, Randee Saber 12/9/08
