Ballad Of The Times Lyrics - Everything But The Girl

Narrow streets breed narrow minds and 

Care for king but not for kind 

It's a short hop to a long weekend 

when every move you apreehend 

You'll never find room to find your feet 

to walk out of this avenue 

Your pockets are lined with promises 

when did you promise ever pay for shoes? 

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Counting coal trucks by the line and 

raise your glasses one more time 

'Cause Billy has gone off to war 

And God knows what he's fighting for 

But wartime will make him a man 

Work that no one see, if you can 

A hero's grave is 6 feet deep not 

Room enough for all his plans. 

She can scrub the step but if he'll never gleam 

If he did she'd smash the dream 

And they've held the world too long 

But dreams are what you wake up from 

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Father was a fighter too 

The only way to jump the queue 

Boxing clever, times were tough 

But will that ever be enough? 

You'd never find room to find his feet 

To walk out of these avenues 

Their pockets are lined with promises 

When did they promise ever pay for shoes? 

When did they promise ever pay for shoes?