Lyrics

(verse 1)

I wake to steam, not to the sun,
Clock strikes grief ‘fore day’s begun.
My fingers ache from ghostly gears,
Turnin’ steel with blood and years.
They say we built this mighty land,
But our names ain't writ in no man’s plan—
Just sweat on stone, and boots in soot,
And trembles that jenever soothed.

(Chorus)

Oh Lord, the wheels don't stop for weepin' men,
They turn again, they turn again.
We pour our lives in smokestack dreams,
And drown our screams in kerosene.
No choir sings where pistons grind,
Just prayers that die in the boss man's wine.

(Verse 2)

My pa died drunk behind machine,
Spittin’ teeth and nicotine.
They said he slipped, I say he broke—
Too much silence, too much smoke.
They gave Ma coal instead of bread,
And a flag when he was good and dead.
I wore his coat, stitched with shame,
And walked the line that bears his name.

(Chorus)

Oh Lord, the wheels don't stop for weepin' men,
They turn again, they turn again.
The bosses feast while we forget
How freedom smells ‘fore lungs are wet.
We trade our time for nothin’ grand,
Just crooked backs and copper hands.

(Bridge)

Don’t ask for mercy from the forge,
It burns for gods we can't afford.
The rail runs red, the furnace sings,
And children sleep on rusted springs.
But somewhere deep beneath my skin,
The old song hums its truth again—
That man was made for more than this,
Not cog nor chain, but wind and kiss.

(Verse 3)

I see the dawn through metal haze,
It calls me back to Eden days.
Before the deals, before the fence,
Before we paid for our defense.
I ain't no saint, I ain't no sage,
But I feel the fire behind the cage—
The kind that don’t burn skin and bone,
But tells you: Son, you ain’t alone.

(Final Chorus)

Oh Lord, the wheels don't stop for weepin' men,
But maybe we don't turn again.
Maybe we lay the hammer down,
And raise what's buried in this ground.
The truth’s a stone in every lung,
But now, at last, I've found my tongue.

(Outro)
So I’ll write these words with blistered hands,
For every soul who made this land.
Not for gold, nor for a name—
But to say: we lived, and bore the flame.
And if you hear me through the din—
Know this: the fire still burns within.