paroles de chanson Palaces of Gold - Martin Carthy
If
the
sons
of
company
directors
And
the
judges′
private
daughters
Had
to
got
to
school
in
a
slum
school
Dumped
by
some
joker
in
a
damp
back
alley
Had
to
herd
into
classrooms
cramped
with
worry
With
a
view
onto
slag
heaps
and
stagnant
pools
Had
to
file
through
corridors
grey
with
age
And
play
in
a
crack-pot
concrete
cage
Buttons
would
be
pressed
Rules
would
be
broken
Strings
would
be
pulled
And
magic
words
spoken
Invisible
fingers
would
mould
Palaces
of
gold
If
prime
ministers
and
advertising
executives
Royal
personages
and
bank
managers'
wives
Had
to
live
out
their
lives
in
dark
rooms
Blinded
by
smoke
and
the
foul
air
of
sewers
Rot
on
the
walls
and
rats
in
the
cellars
In
rows
of
dumb
houses
like
mouldering
tombs
Had
to
bring
up
their
children
and
watch
them
grow
In
a
wasteland
of
dead
streets
where
nothing
will
grow
Buttons
would
be
pressed
Rules
would
be
broken
Strings
would
be
pulled
And
magic
words
spoken
Invisible
fingers
would
mould
Palaces
of
gold
I′m
not
suggesting
any
sort
of
plot
Everyone
knows,
there's
not
But
you
unborn
millions
might
like
to
be
warned
That
if
you
don't
want
to
be
buried
alive
by
slagheaps
Pitfalls
and
damp
walls
and
rat
traps
and
dead
streets
Arrange
to
be
democratically
born
The
son
of
a
company
director
Or
a
judge′s
private
daughter
Buttons
will
be
pressed
Rules
will
be
broken
Strings
will
be
pulled
And
magic
words
spoken
Invisible
fingers
will
mould
Palaces
of
gold
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