Everything but The Girl

Everything but The Girl - Ballad of the Times lyrics

Narrow streets breed narrow minds and

Care for king but not for kind

It´s a short hop to a long weekend

when every move you apreehend

You´ll never find room to find your feet

to walk out of this avenue

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

And God knows what he´s fighting for

But wartime will make him a man

Work that no one see, if you can

A hero´s grave is 6 feet deep not

Room enough for all his plans.

She can scrub the step but if he´ll never gleam

If he did she´d smash the dream

And they´ve held the world too long

But dreams are what you wake up from

Father was a fighter too

The only way to jump the queue

Boxing clever, times were tough

But will that ever be enough?

You´d never find room to find his feet

To walk out of these avenues

Their pockets are lined with promises

When did a promise ever pay for shoes?

When did a promise ever pay for shoes?

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