| The iron gates clang in a steel mill town
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| A man breaks down to that unemployment sound
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| He takes a last walk down that old coast road
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| In the dying death throes of all that he knows
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| The sight of those men walking through the gates
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| Was like a lame pit pony at the end of its days
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| (Fire, Fire, Fire)
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| In a Deeside town eight thousand went down
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| In a February day in the driving rain
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| No winners just losers and cuts and bruises
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| As the picket lines fell, the industry died
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| There’s still one question after all this time
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| Is a working man born to live and then die?
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| Fire Fire Fire
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| To build the ships to set the sails
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| To cross the sea of fools
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| To be dealt the cards
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| To play our hand
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| To win or else to lose
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| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he’s down
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| (Down to the ground)
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| (Hey now)
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| And Lady Luck smiles on the few in this world
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| And I hope and I pray that she smiles on you
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| I ain’t gonna preach, no I ain’t gonna teach
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| I’m just gonna sing about the things that I need
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| A little bit of love, a little bit of hope
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| A little bit of strength, some fuel for the fire
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| (Fire Fire Fire)
|
| To build the ships to set the sails
|
| To cross the sea of fools
|
| To be dealt the cards
|
| To play our hand
|
| To win or else to lose
|
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he’s down
|
| (Down to the ground)
|
| A little bit of love, a little bit of hope
|
| A little bit of strength, some fuel for the fire
|
| (Fire Fire Fire)
|
| To build the ships to set the sails
|
| To cross the sea of fools
|
| To be dealt the cards
|
| To play our hand
|
| To win or else to lose
|
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he’s down
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| And all around the world the lights are going down |