Out on the town on Saturday night,
Factory kinds prowlin’, out for a fight,
They’re dressed up in drag and dressed up in jeans,
Chasing the visions they’ve seen in their dreams,
Factory girls giggling behind the wall,
Hoping that someone will give them a call.
They’re so tired of the factory life
Try to escape it on Saturday night,
Pick yourself up and open your eyes,
Get yourself outta the factory life.
They don’t look very pretty; they look kinda sad,
Talking ’bout all of the scenes that they’ve had,
Jive talkin’ street walkin’ tryin’ to escape,
Wishing the man would give them a break,
It’s all rushing past, in front of their eyes,
And they flash off and on like great neon signs.
How I hate to see you
Wasting so much time,
Around your tired minds.
written by: R.Clapton
publisher: Festival Music