At the east end of town
at the foot of the hill
Stands a chimney so tall
that says Aragon Mill
But thereīs no smoke at all
coming out of the stack
The mill has shut down
and it ainīt a-coming back
And the only tune I hear,
Is the sound of the wind,
As it blows through the town,
Weave and spin, weave and spin
Well, Iīm too old to work
and Iīm too young to die
Tell me, where shall we go
My old gal and I
Thereīs no children at all
in the narrow empty street
The mill has closed down
itīs so quiet I canīt sleep.
Yes, the mill has shut down
itīs the only life I know
Tell me, where will I go
Tell me, where will I go
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