Ballad Of The Times Lyrics
Narrow streets breed narrow minds and
Care for kin but not for kind
It's a short hop to a long weekend
When every move you apprehend
You'll never find room to find your feet
To walk out of these avenues
Your pockets are lined with promises
When did a promise ever pay for shoes?
Counting coal trucks by the line and
Raise your glasses one more time
'Cause Billy has gone off to war
God knows what he's fighting for
The wartime "will make him a man"
Work that one out, if you can
A hero´s grave is 6 feet deep, not
Room enough for his friends.
And she can scrub the step but it will never gleam
If it did, she'd smash the dream
They've held the world too long
Dreams are what you wake up from
Father was a fighter too
The only way to jump the queue
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Boxing clever, times were tough
But will that ever be enough?
He never found room to find his feet
To walk out of these avenues
His pockets were lined with promises
When did a promise ever pay for shoes?
When did a promise ever pay for shoes?
