Billboards

 

Born in a matchbox in a shoebox on the hill,

Earn my keep spinning in the local cotton mill,

Up so early, home so late, never see the day,

All the boys they did the same, poor wages they did pay.

If I were able to sleep now, I’d be out until the summer,

When the flowers come to life, undercover ‘til the colour.

They taught him to cry for the war and not to live in fear,

He cried only on his birthday, well he cried just once a year,

Worrying that he’d die alone just like his mother did,

After his father left her alone with their only kid.

If I were able to sleep now, I’d be out until the summer,

When the flowers come to life, undercover ‘til the colour.

All of these billboards look the same to me,

Next stop happiness is all that I see.

 

So put A Girl Called Johnny in my ear while I wait,

Plate up the future but she won’t believe in fate,

This so called chaos in our lives, a slave to a trade,

Some die trying, some live lying, others are born made,

 

If I were able to sleep now, I’d be out until the summer,

When the flowers come to life, undercover ‘til the colour.

If I were able to sleep now, I’d be out until the summer,

When the flowers come to life, undercover ‘til the colour.

 

All of these billboards look the same to me,

Next stop happiness is all that I see.

Next stop happiness is all that I see.

Next stop happiness is all that I see.