Now 'Man is is born to trouble Sure as sparks to Heaven fly' So said the man sat all alone In the corner of my eye Isaid, 'Why the long face, why so sad ? Things cannot be so bad ! ' He said 'My aching bones tell of trouble on the road And you can't make light of this load' He said 'You can't make light of this load'
Now just don't get me started on work, trust or money There are not enough hours in the day In a land where nothing works except the answering machines You have to watch whet you say All the high hopes that Thatcher's breed Lies crushed bneath some eighties creed Well 'Moaning Minnies' we may be just don't let us explode You can't mke light of this load They said, 'You can't make light of this load'
'Oh, don't the days seems lank and long When all goes right and none goes wrong' So avoid the sad old so-and-so with his sorry episode Who can't make light of his load, lads ! Who can't make light of his load