Horses

Word came down and it crashed through my door
From the twenty-first floor
I was thinking about leaving early for lunch
When he told me to shut off my press
His face turned green and his white shirt was wet
Like he’d just seen an accident
We threw our masks into a pile
The trucks pulled away for good
Holy Mackinaw Joe
A bus pulled in, and I waved at it
Before I knew what it was
We ran in its tracks, chasing its tires
But the gates had been riveted shut
I looked for the foreman: His number was empty
Up to Red Deer to stay
We gathered some signs and we sparked up a fire
Gordie got burned on the high-voltage wire
Holy Mackinaw Joe
The first thing she’ll ask me is: «How did it go today?»
And I’ll tell her
I thought there was strength in a union
I thought there was strength in a mob
I thought the company was bluffing
When they threatened to chop us off
Ah, these guns will wilt, the winter will seize
And all the bonfires will go out
The company knows when they can afford to be bold
I wish I could, I wish I could, I wish I could
Holy Mackinaw Joe
We are the horses…