Mighty Man Lyrics - Tracker - Mark Knopfler

A room on the top floor 

And the chest all but knackered 

Two fingers not working 

And the back's shot to hell 

It's a lifetime of digging trenches 

In the cold and wet weather 

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 

And you were always alone 

Just a drifter in limbo 

I was best off away, son 

Just one of the thousands 

Who could never go home 

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That's your mighty man, son 

Your mighty man 

Well, the boat and the train ride 

In a misty November 

We had the worst of the lodgings 

And we hated the subs 

Ma's face on the leaving 

I will always remember 

And we wouldn't get paid 

Until they had closed up their pubs 

And I could stand up on 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 of the women 

And dance round the taproom 

With a chair in my teeth 

Photos 

That's your mighty man, son 

Your mighty man 

That's your mighty man, son 

Your mighty man