A man without a job is a stranger to the seasons
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The April rain will soak you like the worst November brings
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And we're tired of the excuses and the carefully worded reasons
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Without Winter there's no Summer
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Without Autumn there's no Spring.
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When the factories close down the life bleeds from the town.
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Some politicians tells us, 'move and build another home',
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But weren't they voted in to lead us?
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No one said they had to feed us.
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If they'd get us back our jobs
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Then we would take care of our own.
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Chorus
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For a man without a job
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Is a stranger to the seasons
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No music to the cycle of the changes will he hear.
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Like a band without a drummer
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There's no Winter, Spring, or Summer
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There's no rhythm to the passing of the
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Months that make the year.
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Everyone is poorer for the millions
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Who keep growing
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Whose season stays at Autumn
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And whose only colour's grey
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Though we get by on the dole
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It feeds the body, starves the soul
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And stirs the bitterness that's growing
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In the ones who've been betrayed.
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Chorus
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Stranger To The Season
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| Ralph McTell |
