The Turning Wheel

Come gather 'round and I'll spin a tune 'Bout a world beneath an autumn moon In Detroit's dawn, the air is sharp and gray Where the picket lines have come to stay For the Big Three boys and their shiny cars They're countin' profits, reachin' for the stars While the union man, with a voice so plainLed by a fighter, a man named Fain Stands in the cold for a fairer wage Just another line on history's page. Oh, the wheel keeps on a-turnin' And a different fire's always burnin'

Same old struggle, same old fight Just seen in a different pale moonlight From the factory floor to the Capitol stone The story's old, the seeds are sown. Now we head on down to DC town Where a king was made and lost his crown The gavel's silent, the great hall's still They cast McCarthy from the hill A house divided, full of sound and rage Couldn't find a leader to turn the page For weeks they argued, schemed and plead

While the people's business lay there dead 'Til a man named Johnson took the chair Another face to breathe the troubled air. Oh, the wheel keeps on a-turnin' And a different fire's always burnin' Same old struggle, same old fight Just seen in a different pale moonlight From the factory floor to the Capitol stone The story's old, the seeds are sown. And the banker man in his high-back seat Tries to slow the heart of every street

Says inflation's heat must be cooled down So he tightens screws all over town The price of milk, the cost of bread Are whispers in the words he said It's a balancing act, a fragile game But for folks below, it feels the same. Oh, the wheel keeps on a-turnin' And a different fire's always burnin' Same old struggle, same old fight Just seen in a different pale moonlight From the factory floor to the Capitol stone

The story's old, the seeds are sown.