Sweat - Plunkett

See these furrowed lines that eat my face

And this bitter sweat I bleed to stay

See these synchronized hands that leave me cold

And these silver streaks as they unfold

As I dream of a place for my love

And forty more years of being pushed from above

With no thanks at all for all the days that I’ve sold

And swallowed my pride to make a place I call home

Taste this poisoned air that fates my son

In this broken church of soulless songs

And I dream of a place for my love

And forty more years of being pushed from above

With no thanks at all for all the days that I’ve sold

And swallowed my pride to keep this place I call home

(Ok…)

Well if you’ve got something to say

Lets all hear it, someone’ll know your name

So if you wanna go far, then start to work those tongues

You all know where my arse is!

See these furrowed lines that bless my face

And this holy sweat I bleed with grace

As I dream of a place for my love

And forty more years of being pushed from above

With no thanks at all for all the days that I’ve sold

And swallowed my pride to keep this place I call home

I swallow my pride

But you ain’t got none at all