The Grinding Wheel

The autumn air has turned to frost Another season gained and lost I walked the road to Washington To see what foolishness was done The gavel's dust had barely cleared From out the man they'd all revered Then thrown him out on his own sword A kingdom with no ruling lord Meanwhile in the Motor City A different tune, and not so pretty The picket lines held forty days Through sunlit hours and misty haze Against the giants, Ford and GM A working wage, the workers' hymn Stellantis, too, they heard the call

For a fair share before the fall Oh, the wheel of fortune grinds and groans On dusty roads and cobblestones The high man falls, the low man pleads Just planting different kinds of seeds The story's old, the ink is new I sing the tale for folks like you Back in the hall of marble white They searched for leaders in the night One man would rise, another fall His name could never stand up tall They bickered, postured, drew their lines Ignoring all the warning signs 'Til from the back, a name was passed A speaker chosen, at long last

Oh, the wheel of fortune grinds and groans On dusty roads and cobblestones The high man falls, the low man pleads Just planting different kinds of seeds The story's old, the ink is new I sing the tale for folks like you The deals are struck with shaking hands On factory floors across the lands A tentative and fragile peace A promise of a small increase But the wind that blows through DC's halls Still whispers how an empire falls One headline at a weary time For a single, hard-earned dime Oh, the wheel of fortune grinds and groans

On dusty roads and cobblestones The high man falls, the low man pleads Just planting different kinds of seeds The story's old, the ink is new And I'll be back to sing for you