Smokey Factory Blues Songtext
von Albert Hammond

Early in the misty, misty morning
Headin′ for another freeway jam
Sleepy eyed and shivering
Waking up and wishing it was Sunday

I wish it was Sunday
On the radio they're playin′ love songs
Songs that make me want to turn around
Factory gates are up ahead

I wish that I was home in bed with you, my love
Back home with you, my love


But I work to make a living
And I work without a break
And I work when I am sleeping
And I work when I'm awake

Yes, and I'd like to leave the city
But I can′t afford the move
And I think I′m goin' under
With those way down low down
Smokey factory blues

I was born a lover not a worker
Money doesn′t smell like sweet perfume
Some of us feel out of place
With engine oil upon our face
Believe me, you better believe me