The men in suits, they changed my plans
Tried to make idle of these hands
But I stretched my mind, I filled my days
Now it’s time to clear this dust away
CHORUS
Seven years of rust on these tools
Seven long years they lay unused
Seven years have wasted away
Seven long years he counts each day
Counts each minute of every day
Forty five years of my life they took,
Then left me six years short of my pension book.
It seemed so easy to forget
There’s years and years of work in me yet
CHORUS
(its been seven long years)
When you think its all over
(nothing at all)
You need nothing form them
(they need)
Your name comes up in conversation
They need you again, and there’s seven
CHORUS
Seven years of rust on these tools
Seven years of rust on these tools