Every day, about this time
I'm pushing down to the border line
And in the West, the rolling hills
And the false dawn rising from a hard steel mill
From the bridge, a strip of sand
Between the lake and no-man's land
Stretching down the harbour wide
Into the shadow of the factory side
From the bridge, from up on high
I see the people passing by
In through the gates, to the grey beyond
Where they'll be working 'til the work is done
Driving by, sometimes I feel
I spend my life in this cage on wheels
While from the fires, 'cross the blackened fields
Will come the bands of shining steel
Every day, about this time
I'm pushing down to the border line
And in the West, the rolling hills
And the false dawn rising from a hard steel mill