latin quarter
The Men Below
Album, Tour, Albumen-you´re still pecking at the shellAnd you know you should be glad of the livingBut it seems like a living hell somentimesAnd on this paying Stage you play so hardBut so much harder still-is the life beneath, down deep in the seamsWhere your Hotel nights are the stuff of the dreamsOf the men belowImagine, having to fightThe work two miles down from the Air and the LightAnd imagine, having to pleadThat a Job that can kill, is a Job that you needDarker blue this darkness, than a pale young Miner´s eyesWho has to see the Convoy Lights come shiningAnd can´t close off his surpriseWith his one poor piece of paving, pressing hard against his palmKnowing it might be the only way he´d ever get to spend another dayWith the men belowA bingo King is callingIt must be morning time againAn every gaudy ball that gets blown outIt seems is numbered "Number Ten"While on an empty Bus they tried so evry hard to fill up every seatThere was a method in this mad AlarmWho do you think would ever do such harmTo the men below?And who knows what we all oweTo the Boys in the Dust-To the men below?And who knows what we all oweTo the Boys in the Dust-To the men below?And who knows what we all oweTo the Boys in the Dust-To the men below?
From Letras Mania