The saw filer has no place to go but up.
First I wake up,  Get up,  Wash up.
At breakfast, on wheat cakes and syrup I fill up.
The car to start up,  And warm up,  Back up,
Then to the mill drive up;
Two flights of stairs to climb up.
There on the floor lie a dozen saws to fix  up.
So I straighten up”, Pick up, Clean up, And hang up.
A saw grinder to set up,
Crooked teeth to line up,  Swage up,  Shape up,  And sharpen up.
On the bench a back to line up,  Level up,  Tension up.
Fourteen cracks to weld up;  Now that will screw my back up.
So the torch I’ll have to light up,  A welding clamp to heat up.
For that mess of cracks to weld up,
Now I’ll have to speed up,  And go like heck to keep up.
Seven bands just finished up,  Five circulars all tuned up.
The main drive belt to shorten up.
I’ll grab the broom and sweep up;  Then I’ll be all caught up.
Brighter things are shaping up,  For tonight I’ll get paid up.
But after taxes I figure up  And don’t have enough left to pay up,
That’s when I gave up.
To this great society I’ve joined up.  They’ll fix my teeth and back up,
Sooth my tension so I don’t crack up;   Pay my bills and rent up,
Without those saws to fix up.
Now my boss is all shook up.  No two men there can keep his saws up.
He thinks he’ll have to close up,  Until a filer from Alberta shows up,
Or this great society goes Bank Rupp.