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The Sun Never Shines On The Poor
par
Richard & Linda Thompson
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Paroles
The urchins are writhing around in the mud Like eels playing tag in a barrel The old Sally Army sound mournful and sweet As they play an old Christmassy carol The world is as black as a dark night in hell What kind of a place can this be? Old people like hermit crabs run into doorways Fearing to say "Do you feel as downtrodden as me?" Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling The Devil he leans on your bell The future looks black as before And the sun never shines, the sun never shines on the poor The rich man he dreams of his gold and his plate And his house and his car and his women The poor man he dreams of his one-roomed estate And his wage packet, short by one shilling The last penny falls through a hole in your jeans Now ain't that the way when you're down? Just walking in circles for the rest of your life And feeling so low that your chin scrapes along on the ground Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling The Devil he leans on your bell The future looks black as before And the sun never shines, the sun never shines on the poor Now some of the people are poor in the purse They don't have the cash at the ready And some of the people they're crippled and lame They can never stand up true and steady And some of the people they're poor in the head Like the simpleton fools that you see But most of the people they're poor in the heart It's the worst kind of poor, it's the worse kind of poor you can be Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling The Devil he leans on your bell The future looks black as before And the sun never shines, oh the sun never shines on the poor
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