At the east end of town,at the foot of the hill,
There's a chimney so tall,it says Belfast mill,
But there's no smoke at all coming out of the stack,
For the mill has shut down,and its never coming back.
And the only tune I hear is the sound of the wind,
As she blows through the town weave and spin,weave and spin.
There's no children playing in the dark narrow streets,
For the mill has shut down it's so quiet,I cant sleep.
The mill has shut down,'twas the only life I know,
Tell me where will I go,tell me where will I go.
I'm too old to work and Im too young to die,
Tell me where will I go my family and I.