Marc Almond - The Lockman (L’Éclusier) lyrics

The bargemen see me growing old
I see the bargemen aging too
We play the game of Tom Fools
Where the one who still is oldest
In my work even in summer
He must travel wIth eyes clossed
It's not nothing being a lockman
The barge men know my bloated face
They joke with me that's there mistake
Half sorcerer half drunkard
I cast a spell on all that sings
In my work in autumn
We gather fruit and the drowned
It's not nothing being a lockman
In his basket a baby squirms
To watch the fly on his nose
Mama moans and time frets
Cabbage sweats and fires groan
In my work in winter
We think of the father who drowned himself
It's not nothing being a lockman
Towards the spring the barge women
Feign and gloat from their boat
I'd like their games but for that war
That he leaves me somewhat damaged
In my work in the spring
One takes the time to drown self