MacCormack-MacCormack-Manzanera
Thunder rolling down out of dried-up skies
Every inch of earth crying out for water
Television man spelling out the price
Everywhere the sheep creeping the slaughter
Cold weather coming, people feel the fire
Living on Dead End Street with no desire
Is it any wonder you've got no power
When you pay a thief to keep it for you?
Is it a surprise that your wine is sour
When you let a liar choose the brew he pours you?
Talk on the wire about force and choice
It's uncomfortable to raise your voice
Everybody whispering behind their hand
Selling their despair to any stronger man
Don't have to listen now
We taught ourselves to trust our heads
It's getting us nowhere
If fifty-five million hearts can't feel it
We'll never know where
Polish up your silver and hide your gold
Send the lookout man down to every corner
Gather in the place where it's bought and sold
Next to where you once used to be a learner
Cold weather coming, people feel the fire
Living on Dead End Street with no desire
You gotta listen now
Writer(s): Phil Manzanera, William Alan Macdonald Maccormick, Ian Macdonald Maccormick
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