Lyrics Stiff Little Fingers

Stiff Little Fingers

All the Rest

He's drinkin' supermarket cider

In a doorway in the town

And he's shouting 'bout the government

And how they let him down

He's got a sister lives in Brixton

Always tried to do her best

Yet she winds up broke and shafted

Just the same as all the rest

He's got a torn and greasy greatcoat

And a New York Yankees vest

And some strongly held opinions

That he must get off his chest

Yet his friends don't think about him

They all gave him up for dead

And they all got real embarrassed

About the problems with his head

R:

Shout it out! (Shout it out with me)

Shout it out! (It's a mystery)

Shout it out! ('cause what I can't see)

Why he's invisible to them

Yet so obvious to me

He make his home in cardboard boxes

And the pigeons are his friends

And you cross over to avoid him

Never try to make amends

For the way that he's been treated

And we all must share the blame

And we never look him in the eye

And never ask his name

I thought we were past this stage

Never in this day and age

These things are still going on

Tell me where did we go wrong

I thought we had changed for good

Maybe I misunderstood

Does our new and caring nation

Only care for politicians

Those that have will all do well

All the rest can go to hell

R: (x2)