The Ballad Of Willy Robbins

	Willy Robbins was a hard workin’ fellow
	an' each morning he’d kiss his wife twice an' tell her
	Oh sweetie I know we’re just starting out
	but down at work that tower’s still being built
	And Mr. Taylor I think he told me
	not until that tower’s built would he pay me
	so Willy picked up his hard hat, gloves and pail
	and he combed back his graying hairs
	By noon each room would be tidied and clean
	by nine Willy would be back in time to eat
	then like many workin' men he’d shower, watch TV
	and beside his dear wife he’d fall fast asleep
	Yet two weeks passed by an' the check never came
	Mr. Taylor holds his initial claim
	the building undone, no money to be seen
	Willy and his wife with little to eat
	The pay week gone, yet it was she who grew tired
	the man she married she no longer admired
	the house dirty, the heat pipes cough
	the jam jars nearly empty, the apples soft
	the bedroom dusty, the bedsheets unmade
	while Willy sleeps Margaret lies awake
	was it her time to leave, she did contemplate
	Each night at the bus depot Willy waits alone
	for the no. 35 to take him home
	his arms weary, his tongue bound
	like Sisyphus he feels unearthing a rock from the ground
	just to push it up a mountain to watch it roll back down
	Willy Robbins was the hardest workin' fellow in town

	Willy Robbins was a hard workin' fellow
	an' each morning he' d kiss his wife twice an' tell her
	Oh sweetie I know we' re just starting out
	but down at work that tower' s still being built
	And Mr. Taylor I think he told me
	not until that tower' s built would he pay me
	so Willy picked up his hard hat, gloves and pail
	and he combed back his graying hairs
	By noon each room would be tidied and clean
	by nine Willy would be back in time to eat
	then like many workin' men he' d shower, watch TV
	and beside his dear wife he' d fall fast asleep
	Yet two weeks passed by an' the check never came
	Mr. Taylor holds his initial claim
	the building undone, no money to be seen
	Willy and his wife with little to eat
	The pay week gone, yet it was she who grew tired
	the man she married she no longer admired
	the house dirty, the heat pipes cough
	the jam jars nearly empty, the apples soft
	the bedroom dusty, the bedsheets unmade
	while Willy sleeps Margaret lies awake
	was it her time to leave, she did contemplate
	Each night at the bus depot Willy waits alone
	for the no. 35 to take him home
	his arms weary, his tongue bound
	like Sisyphus he feels unearthing a rock from the ground
	just to push it up a mountain to watch it roll back down
	Willy Robbins was the hardest workin' fellow in town