See the anger, see the hatred running through this world On the scrap heap at the age of 40 and now he doesn't work Union bosses promised him safety, sold him out again Now he sits alone and hides, sits to hide his shame
Chorus: See the dirt of all the ages ground in to my hands, is this what I really worked for, is this my green and pleasant land?
Sees the queues for work get longer retreats in to his shell Remembers the pride of his forefathers, but only now and again The anger in his mind grows stronger he doubts his sanity Reduced to a beggar by the state a name, a number, one of many
Chorus
The state of his mind is now in confusion as bad times linger on Tragedy, drama, comedy, the show has played too long His grand finale is a short one with nowhere left to hide He leaves the world another number, another suicide!