I am the course that you will run
I am the river bed
I am the stones
And I will wash you soft and clear
Through locks and cuts
And 'On Your Owns'

I am the rising in the East
The setting out
The going down
And I will mark your shadow length
Lie at your feet
From sole to crown

I am the sand the rocks become
The sand that shifts
The sand that sings
Beneath a thousand buds will grow
Within the movement of these springs

The tower cranes they trace
Their steel arcs in the sky
And lurch great loads
Above the bed in which we lie

I am the breeze that eases you
The wind that whips
The hurricanes
I am the movements from inside
That stirs and shakes the window panes
 

 
In the house of the almighty lord
They all shall come, the great and small
They have-nots, and the have-it shall enter.
A body from a foreign war
Is draped in flag, the bugle calls
To prey in sorrow, bless the cause
Remember
Shall we not remember?

But would the man from Verdun speak
Of glory if he laid a wreath?
And if the Empire called again, would he defend her?
And what of those who held Madrid
While powers stalled and freedom hid?
Or those that kept the Athens bridge,
Traitored by the allied kiss?
Shall we not remember?

And who believes he came to die
For uniforms where padres hide
To bless the violence from our side,
Knowing smaller nations cry.
"Thou shalt not kill" - unless of course
The weak shall try and share the earth
With those who found their power of birth
Remember
Shall we not remember.
 

It's a mighty long day, in the freight elevator,
Say, "Hey there Dan, gonna catch you later"
As you were taking up the cases
Of the man with alligator shoes.

You can take it to the basement, ride it to the top
Punching out the floor numbers, hitting on the stop
Balling out the bell boy
For creasing up the racing news

Oh! The freight elevator, it's so good to ride.
So far from the lobby on the other side.
There's no sort of space, a stowaway can hide
And the sign on the wall says
"Just freight inside"

They've got a hot band in residence
Lights above the door
"Come in every evening and swing with Artie Shaw"
Seems the whole of 52nd street
Is packing out that floor so tight

They've got a young black vocalist, she's setting them on fire
Singing voice like velvet
Stretched out over wire
Gonna hire in extra waitresses
At least that's what I heard tonight

It's got fresh bed linen
For the 14th floor
And a crate of canned grapefruit
For the cold food store
Pair of high heel shoes
From a Denver man's door
And that young black vocalist
What's she riding for?

Oh! The freight elevator, it's go good to ride
So far from the lobby on the other side
There's no sort of space, a stowaway can hide
And the main elevator says
"No blacks inside"
 

 
Nine children in one family
Nine Xhosa Wars
Nomzamo in 1960
Already victim of her country's laws
I say 'laws', why dignify
The Sjamboks and the slammed cell doors?
In twenty years they gave her nineteen sentences - still
One People! One Cause!
One People! One Cause!
Nomzamo! Nomzamo...

Named 'Trial' but how often can
You take the stand?
Nomzamo left glued in Brandfort
Twenty years for a touch of his hand
But in touch and in the face of
The Robben Islands and the bleak Pollsmoors
I see 'separate' - I see 'development' - still
One People! One Cause!
One People! One Cause!
Nomzamo! Nomzamo...
Nomzamo - you say it's part of your soul
Nomzamo - one day you'll paint it
Red, black, green and gold...

Told today that they release you
That you had paid your debt
Nomzamo in her own damn country
How much more boorish can these people get?
But you refuse to get the message
Of waving whips, in bloody semaphore
Where only gunfire's indiscriminate - as always
One People! One Cause!
One People! One Cause!
Nomzamo! Nomzamo...
 

The spring-board quivers and the colour's run
Negotiating with a loaded gun
The roe-buck scatter and the deed is done
Negotiating with a loaded gun

A radar trace beneath the Polar ice
Can flare as bright as an exploding sun
Captain's order, "You don't think twice"
Negotiating with a loaded gun

The spring-board quivers and the colour's run
Negotiating with a loaded gun
The roe-buck scatter and the deed is done
Negotiating with a loaded gun

You need to make the time, to make you play
Between the echo and the ricohet
You need to wait until the chamber spins
This dice is loaded and nobody wins

I thought your hexagrams were all re-cast
I thought your entrance only set to stun
No safety-curtain to contain the blast
Negotiating with a loaded gun
 

 
When Anastasio fell he was by then the first Somoza
To have had Nicaragua like a kingdom along his blood-line
Where the national guard wore the family crest
In a family business tied to the west
But he was overthrown by those who would share their land with millions
Overthrown by those who would be free of the ox's life
But to our shame the west would aim to cut that freedom down

Burn Again! Must Nicaragua burn again!?
Burn Again! Must Nicaragua burn again!?
Because the USA's got the need to-day
To be born again
Born again!? Must Nicaragua burn again!?

The USA begins in a war of independence
When liberty stood tall in the constitution
But that torch today casts a giant doubt
When the senate sends the contras out
To hunt them down, hunt them and destroy the free elections
And it is to our shame the west would aim
To cut that freedom down

Burn Again! Must Nicaragua burn again!?
Burn Again! Must Nicaragua burn again!?
Because the USA's got the need to-day
To be born again
Born again!? Must Nicaragua burn again!?

They play Central America
Like a line of fruit machines
They take the beans for the grinder
And they meet the bill with bullets and marine
 

 
You're living in a world where all the lambs are "frisky"
And private eyes hold hold-guns that are hotter than
The whisky that they drink
The cops here never miss a hand-out and they
Never miss a detail
Supergrasses sell you wholesale but they'd like to make it retail
Don't you think?

I saw you huddled in a parka by the fifteen furlong marker
What you told me was obscured by the hooves
And the cling-film clings around you
Choking off all of the sound you're making
Even though you scream it
From the roofs

Love has gone, love has taken a rain check
Love has left you with no forwarding address
Love has gone, love has sailed the evening tide
And the last surviving signal is distress
Love has gone…

You played them all the sickly crooners
All the sugar "moon" and "Juners"
But that waxworks never got you past first base
After all of that Scorsese you should know
Things don't come easy
Now you're shedding bitter tears by the case

Love has gone, love has taken a rain check
Love has left you with no forwarding address
Love has gone, love has sailed the evening tide
And the last surviving signal is distress
Love has gone…

Love has left you in Manila
With your "Off the Wall" and "Thriller"
And a bill that's mounting every single day
But the telex and the ticker tape
Just tell you what you can't escape
She's left you not a single thing to say

Love has gone, love has taken a rain check
Love has left you with no forwarding address
Love has gone, love has sailed the evening tide
And the last surviving signal is distress
Love has gone…
 

He talks of wine, his words cascading it
An active life, his hands parading it
To please him now, his eyes persuading it
The night's a lie, there's no evading it

The night's a fire
This engine's speeding to
The night's a crash
This learning curve is leading to
The night's a fire

It's blue and black
And broke, and bleeding too
The night's embrace
Will never stop me needing you
The song that plays, the singers faking it
The step they took, should not have taken it
The beating heart, they both are breaking it
The love they made, they start unmaking it.
 

And in Donovan's doorway
There's a man with a night stick
To keep us from playing the fool
And in Donovan's doorway
There's a man with a night stick
And he's just applying the rules

There's fine rain falling past a tall flood-light
For some fine foot-balling on a week-day night
The players all drive up
In limousines
To pull on the red and the white

And in Donovan's doorway
There's a man with a night-stick
He's watching from his left to his right
And in Donovan's doorway
There's a man with a night-stick
He's keeping us well in his sights

And he could walk this road all night
And we could talk it out till the very first light
And we could start from the slightest suggestion
But the odds are against us
Making much progress
Because it's not just the night that's in question…

There's a church converted to a hard-ware store
There's no-one on this street who don't know the score
Two hearts entwined
'Mick' and 'Caroline'
On a poster that says, 'Help the Poor'

And in Donovan's doorway
There's a man with a night-stick
He asks me what I'm looking for

And in Donovan's doorway
There's a man with a night-stick
He asks me what I'm looking for

And in Donovan's doorway
There's a man with a night-stick
And he's just upholding the law
 

Album, tour, albumen - you're still picking at the shell
And you know you should be glad of the living
But it seems like a living hell sometimes
And on this playing stage you play so hard
But so much harder still - is the life beneath, down deep in the seams
Where your hotel nights are the stuff of the dreams
Of the men below

Imagine, having to fight
To work two miles down from the air and the light
And imagine, having to plead
That a job that can kill, is a job that you need

Darker blue this darkness, than a pale young miner's eyes
Who has to see the convoy lights come shining
And can't close off his surprise
With his one poor piece of paving, pressing hard against his palm
Knowing it might be the only way he'd ever get to spend another day
With the men below

A bingo king is calling
It must be morning time again
And every gaudy ball that gets blown out
It seems it's numbered 'number ten'
While on an empty bus they tried so very hard to fill up every seat
There was a method in this mad alarm
Who do you think would ever do such harm to the men below?

And who knows what we all owe
To the boys in the dust - to the men below?

And who knows what we all owe
To the boys in the dust - to the men below?

And who knows what we all owe
To the boys in the dust - to the men below?