Bitter times

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Mister Wulf

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Spray painted on the bridge is an ode to better times
Among the filthy brambles, under darkened skies
A young man stares alone, with damp clothes torn to rags
His whole life and his dreams are stuffed into his sleeping bag
He came up from the south coast to seek a better way
The hopes he dragged along with him were dashed within a day
A tiny pill leads to a pale and bitter end
His anger has just petered out, he's too tired to pretend

Bitter times, bitter times, it's all there is in view
There's plenty for the many, but it's taken by the few
Bitter time bitter times, they're playing on repeat
How can we turn these bitter times to sweet?
How can we turn these bitter times to sweet?

In the midday heat lies a skinny sack of bones
His mum and dad were taken out out by the yankee drones
The village where he was raised is just a heap of dust
and every side assures the people that their cause is just
His bother is a fighter, he wants someone to blame
He joins the race to seek revenge in his brother's name
But the ones he really needs to meet are safely hid away
His anger will not disappear, he'll get even some day

Bitter times, bitter times, it's all there is in view
There's plenty for the many, but it's stolen by the few
Bitter time bitter times, they're playing on repeat
Only we can turn these bitter times to sweet
Only we can turn these bitter times to sweet
Only we can turn these bitter times to sweet

 Become A Better Singer In Only 30 Days, With Easy Video Lessons!