Words and music by John Kay
You see that endless line? They're victims of our time
Who's only crime was to bank on their fathers dreams
To work hard all your life, to raise your family with your wife
And to survive all the heartaches and bad breaks fate may bring
But dreams are seldom real and an aching heart won't heal
Standing in a line for a meal at a strangers door
As night begins to fall, they lay down in the hall of the mission
Of the Salvation Army that is loosing the war
And they dream of home, where someone's waitin'
Waitin' by the phone at the end of their rope
But come early dawn as dreams are fading
They're hanging by a slender thread of hope
Now it's closing time again, she turns her collar to the wind
Goes running in the rain to a friend on the way back home
To hold the only joy the world did not destroy
A laughing little brown eyed boy she calls her own
Though he leads her by the hand and tries to be her little man
He's really still too young to understand her quiet fears
Oh bills weigh on her mind and she hates her daily grind
'Cause time for romance was impossible to find these last few years
Now they're goin' home, where no one's waiting
Weary to the bone, she tries to cope
Sitting there alone, while slowly fading
She rocks to sleep her slender thread of hope
The news comes on at ten, the public servant will explain
How pouring water on the drowning little man will solve the mess
To save our way of life and to help us all survive
Those with nothing will now have to stay alive on even less
And as he spoke these words of wisdom
Like a cruel joke beyond his scope
With just one stroke from his fountain pen
He cut the last and final thread of hope
© 1984 Rambunctious Music (ASCAP)
