Written By:  Rum Rebellion
Song:        The Grind Stone

Each weekend that passes we pull out the stops
And come Sunday evening we're one haggard lot
Now my belly's a-rumbing and my money is spent
And it's back to my job for to pay up my rent

It's a thankless existence for the working class man
Just a moment of freedom, then you're at it again

Monday is here, no reason for cheer
For it's back to the grindstone again, again
And it's back to the grindstone again
 
Well I paddled  the river and danced on the sand
Played up a jig with me merry ould band
Cooked on the fire, then drank til I dropped
Wishin' to god that this journey wouldn't stop

So free do I feel with me face in the wind
But it feels like it's over before it begins

Now I'm singing ' Hi ho, it's to work I must go
And it's back to the grindstone again, again
And it's back to the grindstone again


It seems that all good times must come to an end
Be it layin' with your sweetheart or drinkin' with friends
The wheels of the grindstone keep turning away
Time to work for my bread and earn up my pay

So I look to the days when adventure returns
With the sun shining on me and money to burn
When that bloody old grindstone won't turn anymore
And I'm living alife that seems worth living for

But for now I return to the pain and the burn
Well it's back to the grindstone again, again
And it's back to the grindstone again
Monday is here, no reason for cheer
For it's back to the grindstone again, again
And it's back to the grindstone again