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Letra de Tuesday 5pm
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Newspapers, odd hours and shoulders breaking. Years of wear working in cold arthritic. Acceptance to a point when it could be handled but it gets too much too soon too much and then starts snarling. Worked so hard for so little . . . so honestly. And this honest man looks through the can (and even though he could never be) a sid long glance at his life and he says to me, I shoulda been a thief. Friends are not just voices on a carbon microphone. Tired all the time, blanked eyed and sleeps alone. Children uncontrolled . . . well theyre only children. Im a simple man and I need my glass because I get so sad now so easily Screen, give me a break I need in my life, entertain me, tell me whats happening in other peoples lives. But the tube just laughs and it makes it harder. The tube just laughs as I watch my father. Slump in the chair, tries to forget his cares but the producer just laughs and packs it on tighter. No movie matinee just crooked clichs. Dad jumps out of his chair and he says Look what the bastards are getting away with A $19 million handshake to retire to a 25 year old wife with. 45 years spent in a cold cell and now I don't have shit. Ah its just not fair is it? Its just not fair. Look, you always said, Don't let it bring you down its only castles burning. Its only the producer pulling you in. Don't get sucked in.
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