Slaid Cleaves Follow

My father was a welder
Down at the navy yard
Up on the North Atlantic
Where the winters come down hard

A union job, some overtime
Nobody would complain
He went to work with a humble pride
Through the snow and rain

Some things you’re born to
Some things you gotta learn
My father built his world on bone, muscle and blood, and welding burns

After work he did some drinking
He’d get a little rough
Just to take the edges off
But he never got enough

He’d hang his coat up by the door
And light a cigarette
Mama’d take his supper out
Turn off the TV set

Some things you’re born to
Some things you gotta learn
My father built his world on bone, muscle and blood, and welding burns

I can see ‘em down at Leigh’s Mills Pond
With the August sun warming her brown skin
He promised he’d take her away
But I think he knew, even way back then

Mama said, “They’re hiring, no need to graduate
Maybe your dad could make a call to the 788.”
I always thought I’d get away
I thought I could rise above
I don’t remember anymore
What I was dreaming of

Some things you’re born to
Some things you better learn
My father was born bone, muscle and blood, and welding burns

Some things you’re born to
Some things you gotta learn
My father built his world on bone, muscle and blood, and welding burns