At the end of the day you're another day older,
and that's all you can say for the life of the poor. It's a struggle - it's a war,
and there's nothing that anyone's giving,
one more day standing about, what is it for?

One day less to be living.

At the end of the day, you're another day colder, and the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill.
And the righteous hurry past,
they don't hear the little ones crying,
and the winter is coming on fast, ready to kill.

One day nearer to dying.

At the end of the day there's, another day dawning, and the sun in the morning is waiting to rise.
Like the waves crash on the sand,
like a storm that'll break any second.
There's a hunger in the land, there's a reckoning still to be reckoned.
It's us who'll have to pay,
at the end of the day.

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