They Take My Time Without a Question
And Fill My Days With All Their Emptiness
And in Their Drawing Rooms
They Beg My Sympathy
But If I Weep to Solve Their Silent Misery
They Save My Tears to Sell For Silver

Their Neighbours Trespass On My Highway
And Feed My Lambs On Every Pavement Corner
And With Their Grief Inside
They're Hiding From the Rain
But If My Sun Should Shine Too Loudly On Their Woe
They Catch Its Beam to Sell For Gold

They Have Me Captured in Their City
In Every Living Room My Dust Has Laid Me Low
And Well I Know
The Brown Earth Will Be My Best Friend
And When I'm Gone They'll Find Another Way to Mend
They'll Sell My Silver Song For Tears