Watching The Bobbins

Watching the bobbins
Go up and down
Fine Irish linen
For a ladies gown

One shirt a penny
Seven in a tag
Ten hours a day
And her heart begins to drag

This never ending cycle goes on
But she promised she would never stay
For long

Rocking the treadle
Ache in her soul
She keeps the rhythm
And it takes a toll

Threading the needle
Strains in her eyes
Old withered fingers
Steal her young girl's pride

She's saving every penny she earns
Because the passion for her freedom
Still burns