The Door-To-Door Inspector lyrics
Song information
Artist: The Fatima Mansions Album: Viva Dead Ponies
Lyrics
The door-to-door inspector, his knuckles bare and white Is rapping on your window 'Cause he knows you're hiding here tonight He's travelled from the city to your country slum Under rain and black clouds And the burnt-out silver sun
He'll drop you where you stand Lift the roof with his bare hands And hand you down his just demands As you huddle in your tiny corner
The door-to-door inspector now sits to eat his lunch He scowls at last week's paper In the worker's cafe, hushed You made your choice whan mocking the ways of true grown men Now may your woman-love protect you As you face this grevious punishment you've earned
He'll drop you where you stand Then journey home to wash those hands And to his bed he'll trembling go Passion not spent, a man alone (With his hand)
[from http://lyrics.doheth.co.uk]
"Viva Dead Ponies" album track list
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