Pink Floyd
«Lyrics»

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time

Plans that either come to naught

or half a page of scribbled lines

Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way

The time is gone the song is over

thought I'd something more to say.

Breathe (reprise)

Home, home again

I like to be here when I can

When I come home coldened and tired

It's good to warm my bones beside the fire

Far away across the field

The tolling of the iron bell

Calls the faithful to their knees

To hear the softly spoken magic spells.

Money, get away

Get a good job with more pay and you're O.K.

Money, it's a gas

Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash

New car, caviar, four star daydream,

Think I'll buy me a footbal team.

Money, get back

I'm alright, Jack, keep your hands off of my stack

Money, it's a hit

Don't give me that do goody good bullshit

I'm in the hi-fidelity first class travelling set

And I think I need a Lear jet.

Money, it's a crime

Share it fairly but don't take a slice of my pie

Money, so they say

Is the root of all evil today

But if you ask for a rise it's no surprise that

They're giving none away, away, away

Us and them

And after all we're only ordinary men

Me and you

God only knows it's not what we would choose to do

"Forward" he cried from the rear and the front rank died

And the General sat, and the lines on the map

Moved from side to side

Black and blue

And who knows which is which and who is who

Up and Down

And in the end it's only round and round and round

Haven't you heard it's a battle of words the poster bearer cried

Listen son, said the man with the gun

There's room for you inside

Down and Out

It can't be helped but there's a lot of it