I believe anonymous guest, above, wishes to draw our attention to this part of Graham Dodsworth's Master's thesis from 2000:

It is important to note that the issue of altering existing songs, whether authorship is known or unknown, can attract heated debate, as discussed in Jill Stubington's entry 'Folk Music in Australia: The Debate' in The Oxford Companion to Australian Folklore (Stubington, 1993, 139). I was told on separate occasions by acquaintances of the deceased author of a workplace related song, The Factory Lad by Colin Dryden, that I should not vary from the original text when performing the song. They held this view despite reluctant agreement that I had not altered the meaning of the song. They also felt disinclined to make concessions when I explained that the author, whilst living, had no compunction as regards making changes when arranging other people's songs for his performances whether that author was alive or deceased.

I had never felt inspired to sing the song with the original text and only warmed to performing it when I perceived the changes that to my mind would improve the listenability of the song. Being able to change the song gave me the desire to perform it. The criticism I received for having the audacity to change it rendered me disinclined to perform it in certain venues thereby, if not killing the song, then slowing its chances of survival. The following is the version of The Factory Lad that I currently perform at festivals and other venues. The version was arranged and adapted between 1993 and 1996 from words supplied by Jenny Simpson of whom Dryden was a family friend. Dryden sometimes stayed with the Simpson family in the New South Wales town of Wagga Wagga.

(Version 1) 'The Factory Lad' by Colin Dryden (Adaptations by Graham H. Dodsworth).
1st.   
I wake up in the morning, the sky's as black as night,
My mother's shouting up the stairs, I know she's won the fight,
I stumble to the table, for a moment at my plate,
Then it's out the door and down the road and to the factory gate.
2nd.   
Cold and grey in the morning light as through the gate I squeeze,
As I clock in the bell will ring and I'll roll back my sleeves,
One eye on the clock and the other, the lathe, and it's right lads is the cry,
A turners fate is an eight hour day and I wish that time could fly.
Chorus:
Turning steel, how do you feel, as in the chuck you spin?
If you felt like me, you'd roll right out and never roll back in.
3rd.   
But time can't fly like the spinning wheel and so 'tis work I must,
With the grinding, groaning, spinning steel, the hot air and the dust,
And it's many the time I'm with my girl, a'walking in the park,
While gazing on the grinding steel and the blinding welder's spark.
(Insert chorus)
4th.   
When my time comes as come it will and I must leave this place,
I'll walk on by the charge hand's door and never turn my face,
Out through the door into the light and I'll leave it all behind,
With one regret for the lads I've left to carry on the grind.
(Insert chorus twice).

The major objection, held mainly by close acquaintances or friends of the author, was my exclusion of the original fourth verse (included below). A common argument used to justify this opinion was that I should not change anything at all because changing the song was obscuring the memory of the author. Their point is valid enough for us to assume this viewpoint has, and will continue to have, its influence over arrangements of existing songs where the author is known to either the arranger or the arranger's friends and acquaintances or audience. I continue to perform my version of the song despite these events and therefore we may also assume that some of the arrangers who fall into the above category and a great many others will alter the songs as they see fit regardless of the degree to which they respect the memory of the author. It should also be noted that I also knew the author very well and also treasure my memories of him and particularly his performances which I consider to be among the best of all performances I have personally experienced.

Examination and comparison of the two sets of lyrics reveal that the essence and main sentiment of the song remain intact despite the changes and the omission of the original 4th verse.

Note that the second version of lyrics below, which also includes this particular verse, and which would be more acceptable to preservation advocates, has ironically used a title taken from within the chorus rather than the original title given the song by the author. Words and phrases which vary from my own are shown in italics. Transpositions of text are indicated below with arrows and demonstrate how differences of text are often extremely minor, a trait of transmission which is demonstrated in further detail in chapter four.

(Version 2) 'The Factory Lad' by Colin Dryden
1st.   
You wake up in the morning, the sky's as black as night,
Your mother's shouting up the stairs, you know she's winning the fight,
You hurry to the breakfast table and grab a bite to eat,
Then out the door and up the road, and through the factory gate.

Chorus:
Turning steel how do you feel, as in the chuck you spin.
If you felt like me you'd roll right out and never roll back in.
2nd.   
Cold and dark the morning as you squeeze in the gate.
As you clock in, the bell will ring - eight hours is your fate.
Off comes the coat and up go the sleeves and "right lads" is the cry.
With one eye on the clock, the other on your lathe, you wish that time could fly.
(Insert chorus)
3rd.   
But time can't fly as fast as a lathe, and work you must - The grinding, groaning spinning metal, the hot air and the dust.
And many's the time I'm with me girl and we're walking through the park,
While gazing down at the spinning steel or the welder's blinding spark.
(Insert chorus)
4th.   
Well, old Tom, he left last week - his final bell did ring.
His hair as white as the face beneath his oily sunken skin.
But he made a speech and he said "good-bye" to a life time working here,
As I shook his hand, I thought of hell - a lathe for forty years.
(Insert chorus)
5th.   
When my time comes, as come it must, why then I'll leave this place.
I'll walk right out past the charge hand's desk and never turn my face.
Out through the gates, into the sun, and I'll leave it all behind,
With but one regret for the lads I've left, to carry on the grind.
(Insert chorus)
(Radic, 1989)

The folk status of 'The Factory Lad' is established because it has been taken up by several people in various regions and performed by them as portraying values that they believe to be true and important. The folk status of the song is not affected by the fact that the author of the song is known to most of the people who sing it, nor that many of these performers may have learnt the song either from a recording of the song or written word.

The following version, taken from the posthumous release of a compact disc featuring the singing of David Alexander, would also be classed as acceptable to those who advocate preserving the author's version and is in fact a version of the song arranged and sung by one such advocate. Compare the variations between the two 'authentic' versions of Dryden's song (above or below).

(Version 3) 'Turning Steel' by Colin Dryden (Adaptations by David Alexander).
1st.   
You wake up in the morning, the morn's as black as night,
Your mother's shouting up the stairs, you know she's winning the fight,
So you then shed out of your bed me' lad for you know it's getting' late,
Then it's down the stair and up the road, and through the factory gate.

Chorus:
Turning steel how do you feel, as in the chuck you spin.
If you felt like me you'd roll right out and never roll back in.
2nd.   
So Cold and dark the morning as you pass the factory gate.
As you clock in, yon bell'll ring - eight hours is your fate.
Off comes the coat, off go the sleeves and "right lads" is the cry.
With one eye on the clock, and t'other on your lathe, you could wish that time would fly.
(Insert chorus)

3rd.   
But time can't fly as fast as the lathe and work you must,
With the groaning, grinding, spinning metal, the hot air and the dust.
And its many's the time I'm with my lass and we're walking through the park,
While gazing on the turning steel or the welder's blinding spark.
(Insert chorus)
4th.   
Well, old Tom, he left last week - his final bell did ring.
His hair as white as the face beneath his oily sunken skin.
But he made a speech and he said "good-bye" to a life time working here,
As I shook his hand, I thought of hell at a lathe for forty years.
(Insert chorus)
5th.   
When my time comes, as come it must,             I'll leave this place.
I'll walk straight out past the charge hand's desk, I'll never turn my face.
Out through the gates, into the sun,             I'll leave it all behind,
          but one regret             the lads I've left, to carry on the grind.
(Insert chorus)
(Alexander, 1997)
The straight arrows above indicate where words were omitted from the verse during the performance of the song compared with other versions. One contextual reason for this, particularly as it appears to be confined to the final verse, could be that Alexander became short of breath by this stage of this particular performance and skipped the words in order to steal extra breath as he was known to do on occasion.

We can assume the altering of existing songs has always been an issue for debate among those who believe they are familiar with an earlier version. Although one sometimes gets the impression the objection to the change is merely to demonstrate the objector's belief that they have a superior knowledge of the song, a conviction gained by their strong familiarity with the first version they came into contact with ¾ often mistakenly referred to as the original.   During previous centuries when long distance travel was slower, more difficult, more dangerous and more usually a one-way permanent trip, that songs would travel and not only change singers but also authorial claimants along the way, with respect for authorship far less policed.

Regardless of which point of view one favours in the above example, a deep feeling for the song is clearly demonstrated and therefore its folk status is established and increased almost as much by the controversy as by the emergence of rogue versions themselves.

Songs with a substantial degree of 'folk status' deserve more kudos than such songs are currently afforded. Songs which command high folk status are less likely to be tainted or continuously encumbered by controls from 'above', or individually motivated political aspirations, either religious or governmental, such as might exist in a published article about an event or circumstance. A group of such songs may be considered more genuine if not accurate at reflecting the attitudes of the common people of an era, region and culture than a lofty offering of prose written by an academic or ecclesiastic residing outside the culture. Such works however can allow perspective when used in conjunction with a group of songs of high folk status.

We may therefore conclude that although all songs have the potential to become folk songs, this potential will remain dormant in many cases, the folk status of others will grow to varying degrees depending on the life they lead, and the songs we generally refer to as excellent specimens, will be those that have found a warm place in the hearts of one group of people or another. It won't matter if we know who the author is, or if it was learnt from a recording or published article any more than a traditional folk song would cease to be so if it were recorded or published.