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• Artiste: Parlor Mob (The)
• Titre: Hard Times
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Clappin all hands when we're out on the weekends, Stompin all feet with the people we believe in, Dogs howlin at the moon, holdin out for pain, Waitin for the day they leave the town and make their, names, Ain't no remedy to recommend, Hard times, in the hearts of young men, Speakin our minds but nobody cares, You know some people got so good it just ain't fair, No money in our pockets so you know we had to make our move, Oh, we live tough we die tough, but it ain't our life to choose, Cause after all we cross and avert them, Hard times in the hearts of young men, In the hearts of young men, The president ain't got our calls, He's sellin souls and breakin laws, And tellin lies for the applause, Ain't no future for our kind, And walk with hope down clouded lines, And these hard times, Me and my kids got a gift for the man, With our souls on fire and our hearts in our hands, A fist in the face of any mouth that will tell us no, Ain't now time for fakin you know we gotta go, go, go, Before there's no flag left her to defend, Hard times, in the hearts of young men,