And the sun has chased off the chills,
The Journeyman readies himself for his flight,
Over rivers and valleys and hills.
The Ford is his stallion, the map is his guide,
He's not short on places to be.
A foreman's no better than the men at his side,
"Go hard or go home!" is his decree.
Harness and lanyard, wire and reel,
His gear and devices are plenty.
Spud bar and klines, iron and steel,
With tools on, he always is ready.
Up walls, on columns, along a bridge deck,
He ties all the pieces together.
In frigid cold, humid heat, whatever the heck,
He works hard, no matter the weather.
It takes a strong man to hold down this job,
His paycheck is honestly earned.
Blood, sweat, and grit are the way of the rod;
He embodies the skills he has learned.