Day by day Whistle while you work Our backs are breaking Up from hollow earth From end to end The noise begins In the human battle stations And the big one's coming in
Work, work, work, work Work till holes are filled Work, work, work, work Bags of bone and skin Lovers hold hands Tossing their heads Tangled in hair Tied to earth With skin and glue
But their skin is the same as yours Coming in for the world to see They can sit at the table, too The same blood as you and me
Speak very softly Hold my hand Someone is sleeping in my bed Priests pass by Worms crawl in One dreams to be One dream for all His skin is the same as yours Is he not made the same as you? And some have fallen down And blood spilled on the ground
Work, work,work Till his life is done The old man is at our door And he's knocking...knocking As his neighbors weep Each day repeats Are we nothing in your eyes? Someone answer, someone answer This rusted garden gate Can barely even stand Their work is over now And rest will be at hand
Is their skin not the same as yours? Can they sit at the table to drink Cool water Cool water And his lungs are filled with rain... And the water's rushing in...
Writer/s: CHRIS FRANTZ, DAVID BYRNE, JERRY HARRISON, TINA WEYMOUTH
Publisher: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
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