When you hear that work time whistle
Pick up your coat and ride
The angels take the locks out
Through heaven's door, they glide
God will trouble my pursuers
And strike me if I lie
See the angels take the locks out
Through heaven's door, we glide
No poets still in the trenches
Where's the real light?
It's all of us against the rest
But I won't die tonight
No poets still in the trenches
Where's the real light?
It's all of us against the rest
But I won't die tonight
There will be no work tomorrow
Just some troubled water there
No profit for the devil's son
The cold and dark we share
The further into night we go
You know the light must come
There will be no serfs tomorrow
For the masters and their sons
No poets still in the trenches
Where's the real light?
It's all of us against the rest
But I won't die tonight
No poets still in the trenches
Where's the real light?
It's all of us against the rest
But I won't die tonight
Sometimes I'm upside down, Lord
Sometimes I'm feeling old
I look upon creation
I look upon my soul, I said
Sometimes I'm upside down, Lord
Sometimes I'm feeling old
I look upon creation
I look upon my soul, I said
Sometimes I feel it down below
Sometimes I'm feeling old
I look upon creation
I look upon my soul
Sometimes I got a feeling down below
Sometimes I'm feeling old
I look upon creation
I look upon my soul, I said
Sometimes I got a feeling down below
Sometimes I'm feeling old
I look upon creation
I look upon my soul
