1
No job, no work, no money; no house, no home, it’s not funny at all,
When you’re waiting for the call, and your back’s against the wall, so steep.
No point, no goal, no meaning, no heart, no soul, no feeling inside,
When they strip away your pride, but the shame you try to hide so deep.
Chorus
No win, no lose, no class, no room, no will to fight,
No faith, no hope, no charity, no friendly light.
And they keep asking why you never learn,
Though your outlook is battered and burned, every way you turn.
2
No job, no work, no money, no house, no home, you’re the only one who knows,
Why you’re sleeping in your clothes, and the reason why you chose that way.
No peace, no love, no gentleness, no God above will bring you happiness,
When they want you to confess. and the more you need the less you get.
Repeat Chorus and End
© Larry de Cléir