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?