Mark Knopfler - Mighty Man

A room on the top floor And the chest over naked Two fingers not working And the back shot to hell It's a lifetime of digging trenches In the cold and wet wind And for laying half the roadway In England as well You'd finish in the one place It was straight to the next one And you never could settle You were always alone Just a drifter in limbo I was best off away son Just one of the thousands Who could never go on That's your mighty man son Your mighty man Well the boat and the train arrived In a misty November We'd the worst of the lodgings And we hated the smell Ma's face on the leaving I will always remember And we wouldn't get paid Until they had closed up their pub I could stand up on a horseback Was the man for the singing Put my hand up for boxing At the fairground on the Heath I could play my accordion And charm all in their weary And dance around the tap room With a tear in my teeth That's your mighty man son Your mighty man That's your mighty man son Your mighty