I’ll put on my harness and strap on my hooks
And plot out a path in the crannies and nooks
To scale up the sky, hand over leg
Try to cook up the world without busting my egg
But it’s been in my blood since I first climbed a tree
A scaffolder’s life for me

And it’s hand up the runners and don’t mind the shakes
‘Til the whistle blows and it’s time for your break
And you drag on a square and you watch the smoke rise
Where the wind sways the steel and the pigeons all fly
From the eves of a bridge stretching over the sea
A scaffolder’s life for me

Some men wear Florsheims and Armani suits
But I’ve got my straps and my redwing steel boots
And my corner office can beat yours in height
Without windows or walls to be blocking the sights
And my hands are more clean than the damn bourgeoisie
A scaffolder’s life for me

Now if I should fuck up and fumble and fall
Like some poor trafficked roofer not tied off at all
Then just toss a swivel clamp into the hole
And watch as it sprouts up with runners and poles
Then clamp it together in my effigy
A scaffolder’s death for me