Rosa On The Factory Floor

She moves with machinery for the fancy sports car trade.
Part of the industrial process: she sees that they stay made.
She works from early a.m. they work her to the bone.
When I call her in the evening, shes too tired to lift the phone.
Damned if Ill wait for her, and Ill be damned if I dont.
Damned if I only see that rosa on the factory floor.
Signed on for the duration. they say she came from the east.
With her tool bag and her coveralls, to pay the rent at least.
She doesnt talk with workers on the rest of the line
And over in the canteen, shes alone most of the time.
Somewhere in her history is a lock without a key.
She doesnt trust the management--and she wont trust me.
Were two different animals. we live jungles apart.
She circles round her freedom and I circle round her heart.