Cardboard at the window, walls are bare
She sleeps alone, no one to care
Lies beneath newspaper, saves the price of coal
Underneath, her soul is screaming
And down the road, an old man in despair
Sits alone, wonder'ing why he's there
Struggled so hard to stay on the track
Keeps on slipping back to where he started
No hope in Union Street
No joy in Union Street
No music in Union Street
Listen you may hear them weep
Children have learned how not to care
Their hungry eyes have seen too much to bear
Dread the awful workhouse
Fear the paupers' grave
Nothing left to save but in their dreaming
If only we did not live here
No footstep on the stair to fear
Where the only birds in flight are pictures on a page
Yellowed now with age, they keep on turning
Feral Beryl - Union Street Lyrics
Feral Beryl - Union Street Lyrics
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Cardboard at the window, walls are bare
She sleeps alone, no one to care
Lies beneath newspaper, saves the price of coal
Underneath, her soul is screaming
And down the road, an old man in despair
Sits alone, wonder'ing why he's there
Struggled so hard to stay on the track
Keeps on slipping back to where he started
No hope in Union Street
No joy in Union Street
No music in Union Street
Listen you may hear them weep
Children have learned how not to care
Their hungry eyes have seen too much to bear
Dread the awful workhouse
Fear the paupers' grave
Nothing left to save but in their dreaming
If only we did not live here
No footstep on the stair to fear
Where the only birds in flight are pictures on a page
Yellowed now with age, they keep on turning
She sleeps alone, no one to care
Lies beneath newspaper, saves the price of coal
Underneath, her soul is screaming
And down the road, an old man in despair
Sits alone, wonder'ing why he's there
Struggled so hard to stay on the track
Keeps on slipping back to where he started
No hope in Union Street
No joy in Union Street
No music in Union Street
Listen you may hear them weep
Children have learned how not to care
Their hungry eyes have seen too much to bear
Dread the awful workhouse
Fear the paupers' grave
Nothing left to save but in their dreaming
If only we did not live here
No footstep on the stair to fear
Where the only birds in flight are pictures on a page
Yellowed now with age, they keep on turning
Writer: Sue Clare
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid