The Dishwasher - Ezra Furman, The Harpoons

So what if I burn my hands

When I unload it?

Hot dishes from the

Dishwashing machine

It’s just my job sir

I do what I’m paid for

You won’t catch me walking

Home from work crying

Oh oh

Oh oh

Oh oh

So what if this apron has

Many stains of red?

Andred is the same color

That runs in my veins

I’m just a number

Swimming in water

I’m just another

Dirty dish in the machine

Oh oh

Oh oh

Oh oh

Every dish I wash

I wash for someone else

I ain’t an old woman

On the beach collecting shells

So what if I could have made

Millions in the stock market?

I never much understood

Numbers anyway

I wash the dishes

Someone must do that

People don’t want

To eat their food

Off dirty plates

Oh oh

Oh oh

Oh oh

And so what if people are

Walking right by me and

Seeing right through me?

I do the same to them

And who cares that the planet

Is turning on cruelty?

A cold metal axis that

Cuts off my head

Oh oh

Oh oh

Oh oh

Maybe some day all the people

In the world so big and wide

Will turn just like a record

Over to their other side