You¡¯ve got your silver spoon hangin¡¯ around your neck
|
And who your father is don¡¯t matter much down here
|
Sometimes it¡¯s easier to fight than run away
|
When will you learn, I never burn? This child cannot be saved
|
|
And while you limousine, and fancy airplane ride
|
I¡¯m in a factory where they tear apart my insides
|
And what is left of me cannot be called a man
|
When will you learn, I never burn? So here I stand again
|
|
If this is how the story ends, with the headlines cursing,
|
Could you persecute me still?
|
When they¡¯re calling off the dogs, and you¡¯re sleeping on the lawn,
|
Will your heart desert me?
|
|
She¡¯s got a golden crucifix,
|
And a pair of bloodshot eyes
|
Got a heart that doesn¡¯t mind
|
Yeah, a heart you couldn¡¯t find
|
I see the world in black and white
|
So it¡¯s easier at night
|
I¡¯ve got a heart that doesn¡¯t mind
|
Yeah, a heart you¡¯ll never find
|
Heart you¡¯ll never find
|
Yeah, a heart you¡¯ll never find
|
|
(x6)
|
Still I try
|
Still I try
|
To find a little meaning in my life
|
|
-----------------
|
Silver Spoon
|
| Ron Pope |
