Come all ye Lewiston fact'ry girls, I want you to understand, I'm a-going to leave this factory, And return to my native land. Sing dum de whickerty, dum de way. No more will I take my Shaker and shawl And hurry to the mill; No more will I work so pesky hard To earn a dollar bill. No more will I take the towel and soap To go to the sink and wash; No more will the overseer say "You're making a terrible splosh!" No more will I take the comb and go To the glass to comb my hair; No more the overseer will say "You're weaving your cloth too thin!" No more will I eat cold pudding, No more will I eat hard bread, No more will I eat those half-baked beans, For I vow! They're killing me dead! I'm going back to Boston town And live on Tremont Street; And I want all you fact'ry girls To come to my house and eat! Sing dum de whickerty, dum de way. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE WOOLWORTH TOWER by SARA TEASDALE THE SONG OF THE PILGRIMS by RUPERT BROOKE ROBINSON CRUSOE ['S STORY, OR ISLAND] by CHARLES EDWARD CARRYL WHEN DE CO'N PONE'S HOT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONNET FOR A PICTURE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |