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von Ghost Ship

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I work the ground and nothing
I cast the line, and nothing comes up
I've got to work harder next month
I've got a suit, a new tie
I've knocked on every door on this street
But they're not buying what I've got

Will you really provide for me
Will my wife eat
Will my children be okay this month


I wave my hands; they drive by
I wave again, but I can't make them stop
Tomorrow, they'll pick me up for sure
I raise a sign; they drive by
I fear tonight, I'll leave with empty hands
Tomorrow, I've got to find some work
But now I'm tired, I'll lay down
I'll rest my head but only for a while
Tomorrow, tomorrow

Will you really provide for me
Will my wife eat
Will my children be okay this month

Will you really provide for me
For the least of these
The hopeless, those poor fools, who can't help themselves

Will you really provide for me
Something I can see
Because I don't believe

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von Ghost Ship

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Wer besingt den „Summer of '69“?

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