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Serves Them Fine (Cotton Mill Colic No. 3)

Dave McCarn
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Dave McCarn

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Da cannu semmu nati
(anonimo)
Poor Man, Rich Man (Cotton Mill Colic No. 2)
(Dave McCarn)
Cotton Mill Colic
(Dave McCarn)


[1931]
Parole e musica di David “Dave” McCarn (1905-1964), chitarrista, armonicista e songwriter originario di Gaston County, North Carolina
Testo trovato su Folk Archive



Conclusione della trilogia sullo sfruttamento operaio e sulla Grande Depressione iniziata nel 1926 con Cotton Mill Colic e proseguita nel 1930 con Poor Man, Rich Man (Cotton Mill Colic No. 2). Poi Dave McCarn, dopo il fugace successo, tornò nell’ombra a fare l’operaio tessile e il riparatore di radio. Morì ancora giovane nel 1964 di una cirrosi.

Songs From The Depression

Trovo il brano interpretato dai The New Lost City Ramblers (Mike Seeger, John Cohen, Tom Paley) nel disco “Songs From The Depression” edito dalla Folkways Records nel 1959.

Gastonia Gallop

Poi anche nella raccolta “Gastonia Gallop. Cotton Mill Songs & Hillbilly Blues. Piedmont Textile Workers on Record, Gaston County, North Carolina 1927-1931” pubblicata nel 2009 dalla Old Hat Records.
Now, people, in the year nineteen and twenty
The mills run good, everybody had plenty.
Lots of people with a good free will
Sold their homes and move to the mill.
We'll have lots of money, they said,
But everyone got hell instead.
It was fun in the mountains rolling logs,
But now when the whistle blows we run like dogs.

It suits us people and serves them fine
For thinking that the mill was a darn goldmine.

Now in the year nineteen and twenty five
The mills all stood but we're still alive.
People kept a-coming when the weather was fine
Just like they were going to a big gold mine.
As time passed on their money did too,
Everyone began to look kind of blue.
If we had any sense up in our dome
We'd still be living in our mountain home.

It suits us people and serves them fine
For thinking that the mill was a darn goldmine.

Now in the year nineteen and thirty
They don't pay nothing and they do us dirty.
When we do manage to get ahead
It seems like all of the mills go dead.
We're always in a hole getting deeper everyday,
If we ever get even it'll be judgement day.
There's no use to colic and there's no use to shirk,
There's more people loafing than there are at work.

It suits us people and serves them fine
For thinking that the mill was a darn goldmine.

Now all you mountaineers that's listening to me
Take off your hats end holler ''Whoopee''.
For I'm going back home in the land of the sky
Where they all drink moonshine and never do die.
I'll take my dogs while the moon shines bright,
Hunt coon and possum the whole darn night.
If you can't get the money to move away,
It's too bad folks, you'll have to stay.

inviata da Bernart Bartleby - 14/4/2015 - 10:28




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