Come Me Little Son

Come, me little son, and I will tell you what we'll do Undress yourself and get into bed and a tale I'll tell you It's all about your daddy, he's a man you seldom see He's had to roam far away from home, away from you and me But remember, lad, he's still your dad, though working far away In the cold and heat, eighty hours a week, on England's motorway When you fall and hurt yourself and get up feeling bad It isn't any use to go a running for your dad For the only time since you was born he's had to stay with you He was out of a job and we hadn't a bob, he was signing on the brew Remember, lad, he is still your dad, and he really earns his pay Working day and night upon the site of England's motorway To buy your shoes your daddy built a length of railway track He built a hydro dam to buy the clothes upon your back This motor highway buys the food, but the wages soon are spent And though we have to live apart, it helps to pay the rent But remember, lad, he is still your dad, and he's toiling every day But there's food to be had and it's thanks to your dad on England's motorway Sure, we need your daddy here and sure it would be fine To have him working nearer home and to see him all the time But beggars can't be choosers and we have to bear our load For we need the money your daddy earns a-working on the road So remember, lad, he is still your dad and he'll soon be here to stay For a week or two with me and you when he's built the motorway