Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Last of the Window Cleaners, artist - Momus.
Date of issue: 31.12.1991
Song language: English
Last of the Window Cleaners |
I was the last of the window-cleaners |
I was sacrificed as such |
When they singled out the ring-leaders |
They said I’d seen too much |
But I only saw what the butler did |
The chambermaid also |
I only saw how the other half lived |
I just washed their windows |
Maybe up my ladder I got ideas above my station |
Seldom if ever had a working man had a higher education |
I learned to value clarity |
And that knowledge is a two-way thing |
That when windows attain transparency |
Working men get a good look in |
But times are bad for window-cleaners |
Worse than the 1930s |
If it’s not cowboys and amateurs |
Who don’t know where the dirt is |
It’s our most powerful customers |
Who’ll wipe us out eventually |
They’ve lost the taste for clarity |
In the late 20th century |
They took away our permits |
And imposed a window tax |
People became like hermits |
Sitting in their pitch black flats |
And though we remained intransigent |
And our pride in the work lived on |
There was a series of mysterious accidents |
And we died off one by one |
I was the last of the window-cleaners |
After the union was smashed |
They found the corpses of the other ring leaders |
Their fingers had been crushed |
I received anonymous letters threatening attack |
They struck at the Limehouse dock |
Up drew a horse-drawn hackney cab |
It was well past twelve o’clock |
Out came a man with a lantern |
Saying he’d come to light me to bed |
Saying something to do with a chopper |
And something to do with my head |
But I wasn’t listening carefully |
There were other things on my mind |
The failure of the union |
The future of mankind |
He spread his frock coat flat on the quay |
And began positioning me there |
Laid me back almost tenderly and flourished a butcher’s cleaver |
I shouted past him into the dark 'We're prepared to make concessions' |
But the blade he twisted in my heart |
Ended my profession |
But times are bad for window-cleaners |
Worse than the 1930s |
If it’s not cowboys and amateurs |
Who don’t know where the dirt is |
It’s our most powerful customers |
Who’ll wipe us out eventually |
They’ve lost the taste for clarity |
In the late 20th century |