It Makes My Heart Stop Speaking

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 it's signs

I learned it, round by round, in fairground boxing booths

There are no easy fights and, yes, no simple truths