hard living

eager enough, like a moth,

you flutter round the city lights

what is it here you're trying to get near -

an idea of paradise?

you never sleep in your hundred-hour week

you're a player, you do it all, do it all,

and you're denying the higher you climb

the further you may fall

hard living

a candle gives no light unless it burns

hard living

the winner wins, the loser learns

pull in the cash for a flashy car -

ooh, caveat emptor

but in the game of cool or lame

you're investing in your score

follow the buzz - follow because

there's always a place to be seen

keeping up the pace, every day you need to face

another night, another bar, another spree

hard living…

and if the world should end, as you died,

you'd recall these moments with pride

you'd rest at peace

knowing once at least you were alive

back in the city, no pity:

the weak support the strong

it's a punishing life, but it must be right

if no one dares say it's wrong

you are not free; you cannot see

the world you've left behind

the deed is done: you have become

the product of your mind

hard living…

written by tom yates 17 june 2003

tom yates – vocals, guitars, piano, tambourine
steve parker – electric guitar, bass
rob kenny – drums