Our Children

You get your lunch in the street
In the warm summer wind
With all of the rest of the broken heart crew
All of your money was spent
On a new TV set
Because Jesus was reading the news

His past, his lies
They are not mentioned
She’s got to leave this room and see to our children

Even less money than sense
She must follow him
As he threatens and preaches and robs
Now all the hotels are fine
And compassion’s a crime
And he yells in his sleep “Please give me time”

My past, my lies
They are not mentioned
She’s got to leave this room and see to our children

So come in one
Come in all
Just take a chair
Take the walls

You get your lunch in the street
You are young, you are poor
And you can’t even do as you’re told
So when the table is bare
Don’t you say it’s not fair
You’ll get used to it as you get old

Our roads are paved
With one intention
She’s got to leave this room and see to our children
Yeah she’s got to leave this room and clean away our children