You`ll never see me trying to raise Cain You`ll never see me wear a suit of green There`s a slip-road up right ahead leading to the agragarian But I`m city born and bred Too many car-fumes in my head Just a well-read punk peasant.
But you`d think a country man would understand the devil makes work for idle hands. M5 6-7 pm
And the man who pretends he knows it all is destined to a Mighty Fall. Gets into your house with cheer, then proceeds to take all you`ve got to offer. This is not an autobahn It`s an evil roundabout That leads to the Haywain And you`ll never see good trains again.
In late 60s, my daddy said to me, you`ll never see trams and clogs again. Now they roam the city.
Can these people not understand The devil makes work for idle hands M5 6-7 pm The devil makes work for idle hands.
M5 to the country straight ahead It`s stuffed to the gills with crusty brown bread Can they not understand there`s nothing worse than a bored man?
M5, 6-7 PM
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