Coming in for the world to see
Is their skin not the same as yours?
Someone answer, someone answer
They can sit at the table, too
And some have fallen down
But their skin is the same as yours
Work, work, work, work, work till holes are filled
From end to end the noise begins
His skin is the same as yours
The old man is at our door
Someone is sleeping in my bed
And his lungs are filled with rain
Lovers hold hands tossing their heads
One dreams to be, one dream for all
Tangled in hair, tied to earth with skin and glue
Work, work, work, work bags of bone and skin
And the big one's coming in
Cool water, cool water
This rusted garden gate can barely even stand
Is he not made the same as you?
Each day repeats, are we nothing in your eyes?
And blood spilled on the ground
In the human battle stations
Work, work, work till his life is done
The same blood as you and me
Priests pass by, worms crawl in
And he's knocking, knocking as his neighbors weep
Their work is over now and rest will be at hand
Speak very softly, hold my hand
Can they sit at the table to drink
