(One, two, three, four). . My father said "Son, now my life's work is done. There's a future for you, there's a job to be done. Stop fighting the system 'cause the system won't break.
Hey now!. . The iron gates clang in a steel mill town. A man breaks down to that unemployment sound. He takes a last walk down that old coast road. In the dying death throes of all that he knows.
I'm a man. Torn in two. State and nation. I've got to choose. For on these streets. That I spit upon. There's no money in my pocket. No soles on my shoes.
I'm a lonely man walking lonely streets. I'm soaked to the skin with the pain of my unease. From such a strained existence. . The tension in this world keeps me from sleep.
You are the power and the glory. You are the weakness in defeat. Like the rise and the fall of the British Empire. You make me sick with your conceit.
Take this song of freedom. Put it on and arm yourself for the fight. Our hearts must have the courage. To keep on marching on and on.
It's been a long time comin'. And it's good to be back. Been in a head on collision. With a medicine man. I've been down in the alley. Where the odds are stacked.
Picture you on a pedestal. So avant-garde of mind. Standing in the last ditch. Where fallen heroes lie. Stand to the left of centre. Stand to the right sometimes.
Do you wake up in the middle of the night. Find your eyes are on full beam. Totally wired. Sweat stains and troubled dreams. Your throat is burnin' dry.
Change upon faces. Changing hands. Change in my father. And my fathers land. . Change, change. Change, change, change, change, change. . Change in the weather.
"This next song's about Ireland. It's called Across The Broder". . Across the Irish border. And hidden in a car. There's guns and ammunition. That were smuggled to Armagh.
I run for my life. Under the black sunlight. On deserted streets. Uneasy dreams I sleep. In this forgitten place. I'm a forgotten face. Sometimes I don't exist.
It's funny how they shoot you down. When your hands are held up high. And you open up your heart and soul. But that's not enough for most.. . I remember this much.
Hey now now. Hey hey hey. . You may be rich. You may be poor. You may have nothing in this world at all. You may be black,you maybe white. You may be a prisioner in your own times.
In vibrant hues and subtle brush strokes of memory. The life I've painted I've sold for a quick twenty. It's on display now for the privileged and the wealthy.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, everything is terrible. Buying marijuana makes you feel like a criminal. When your new friends take a joke too literal. Making you feel like the bad guy.
I held up a liquor store demanding topshelf metaphors. Sinner's smile and open arms. Drop a line to charm the silent alarm. Neutral angels calling the cops.
Took our father's name and our mother's heart. Felt the sister's pain then it fell apart. We were told one thing and they showed us another. Is it finally true we're not getting any younger?.
I guess I should tell her I'm sorry. Why I never showed up to the party. Yeah, I got into a misunderstanding with her old boyfriend named Charlie. Yeah, I love, I love my Juliette.
When you feel there's no body out there. And you cry but they can not hear you. Sometimes this life is insense, this insense. . My soul has become a stone.