| And on the day the work is done
|
| We toil away in fickle sun
|
| And on the day the wire is spun
|
| And so the dismal work is done
|
| All over here it’s darkened still
|
| A cumulus of pride and will
|
| Dissolved in all the oil and steam
|
| The will of all our hopeless schemes
|
| The line is long, the line is great
|
| And humans turning back to clay
|
| Right there beneath the fickle sun
|
| The empty eyes, the end begun
|
| Oh, the crew is done
|
| Now the boats are all astray
|
| There’s no one rowing anyway
|
| There’s no one rowing anymore
|
| The end has come, the men ashore
|
| All the boys are going down
|
| Falling over, one night gone
|
| All the boys are turned around
|
| Long for soldiers everyone
|
| All the boys are falling down
|
| Fallen to ashes in the ground
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| I turned my eyes directly to the sun
|
| To burn off all that I had seen
|
| To wipe away what I had to be
|
| To be recast as something new
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (The brittle foil, the breaks of light)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (Click click click click)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (Click click click click)
|
| (And on the day the work is done)
|
| (And on the day the chick had sung)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (And on the day the wind had sung)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (And on the day the work is done)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (And on the day the chick had sung)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (And on the day the wind had sung)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (And on the day the work is done)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (And on the day the chick had sung)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (And on the day the wind had sung)
|
| (When I was a young soldier)
|
| When I was a young soldier
|
| (When I was a young soldier)
|
| (The brittle foil, the breaks of light)
|
| (The brittle foil, the breaks of light) |