Going Back to Work Again

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“Going Back to Work” I wrote when I was working in a lock & key factory in North Philadelphia around 1972 deciding whether I liked girls or boys or both and shooting a little bit of heroin like I was in a Lou Reed record. If I practiced every morning, I’d get good at this. Should also silence my phone. Oh well, it is what it is. The moment. Good morning.

Going Back to Work

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Going Back to Work

Black morning coffee, yes, I’m walking
Subway sleeping, no one talking
Everyday and everyday, it never ends
I spend my time with locks and keys
in a ghetto factory
and every morning it’s back to work again

Lunchtime the ladies say,
“The war was over yesterday.”
But I say, “No, we”ll shake and shake to the bitter end.
Dropping bombs, chopping hands
never changed the heart of man
Tomorrow morning it’s back to work again.

Going back, I’m going back
Lord, Lord, I’m going back
Going back going back going back to work again
Old Sisyphus did fine
pushing one rock all the time
And I’m going back, going back to work again

On the A train riding home
I saw Jesus casting stones
I cried, “Lord, you said that was a sin.”
He said, “Son, I guess that’s so
but I never said I couldn’t throw
Now you get on back, get on back to work again.”

A cool dark well I thought I found
Deep and wide, I could not drown
Quenched all my sorrows at my rainbow’s end
Hold me, honey, squeeze me tight,
see if we can’t make it last all night
Tomorrow morning it’s back to work again