Another day, another day with the excluded 
Under pressure, under-paid, the 'underclass' 
In all the words there's only this to be concluded 
There is no mystery, there's no unholy ghost 
Just those who have the least must always give the most 

It makes my heart stop speaking 

The chosen course was writing anthems for the people 
But no-one whistled, no-one noticed, no-one asked! 
And set against the scale, the sentiments are feeble 
You can't wear melodies, you cannot eat metaphors 
What good are feather-weights for breaking down the 
doors? 

But don't wring your hands and ask for guidance 
For guidance from above 
Choose not between the love of power 
And the power of love 

'Three little words' today means always 'I', 'Me', 'Mine' 
Higher incomes, high and mighty, highwaymen 
For me a route is still much more than just its signs 
I learned it, round by round, in fairground boxing booths 
There are no easy fights and, yes, no simple truths