1. |
Scrubs in the Street
03:29
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Verses
I see you put those hours in
I see you when I need to mend
I know you, I know your name
We broke bread you taught me things
Where are the stickers on the cars
That praise the work of healing power?
I don't see the mess we've made
But I know you do, I'm listening
When the financiers start to jeer
And try to divide with fear
I'll remember what you do
And fix my words to honour you
Chorus
When the sun goes down and you're walking home in your scrubs out in the street
Do the people thank you as they fall asleep?
Do we sing the praise of healers as we do for those who harm?
As our eyes get heavy do we think of what you've done?
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2. |
Daily Bread
04:11
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Verses
Lead me not into temptation, I’ve had trouble with that sensation
40 times around the sun, you’d think I’d know when fooling’s done
I would say deliver me from evil, but I may have lost hope in people
Daily bread comes at a price, I'm quick to anger, quick to fight
Our father who art dejected, in my voice you are reflected
All the f-words, death words plenty, the way a whiskey bottle empties
I worked in a shop on Richmond Ave, nothing left there but a concrete slab
What do you got left for a middle aged man? Picking food outta' garbage cans?
Now you tell me you can’t pay me, 100 dimes in a cup won’t save me
All I want is a living wage, I’ll take my bread if I don’t get paid
Raising the costs of living in the city, no Hollywood movie gonna make it look pretty
I'm a couple steps from death or jail, pray to the Lord there's a cheque in the mail
Chorus
You might find me hanging
You might find me swaying
I’ve had enough of hoping
I’ve done my share of praying
Don’t you call the cops on me
Don’t you call the priest
Just take me down and hold me close
And marvel at my peace
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3. |
Winnipeg 1919
05:15
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Verses
The fighting was ending, the one to end all wars
Trade trench foot for safety, and the open arms of home
But the fighting's never over when you're unemployed or poor
From bunkhouse to the barroom, to the factory floor
When you can't afford to pay for your life
Inflation's just a word but hunger's like a knife
And wages are down by 20 percent
The landlord is banging on the door for the rent
The war meant money for the railway regime
But the machinists still sided with the workers in need
So fire and water and telephone and rail
All put it all on the line for death or for jail
And they honestly asked you to pledge not to strike
While the Citizens Committee plotted your demise
The Mounties rode in, and the streetcars were smashed
And Saturday was bloody, in that dark aftermath
When the cops refused to break from the trades
You hired all your guns to make them all afraid
And you fired the police, and fired on the crowds
You plotted and conspired, read the Riot Act aloud
Now I sit and wonder
What was even won?
Whether Winnipeg or Windsor
Vancouver or Estevan
But a union's not imposed, it's democratic will
We're not Bolsheviks just because we fight for work and skill
Chorus
It was Winnipeg in May, bursting at the seams
There were thousands on strike in 1919
And this kind of movement don't walk the line for greed
When they take and take and a city breaks and
Your best intentions bleed
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John Rose Kingston, Ontario
John is a singer, songwriter, and composer from Ontario, Canada.
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