Woodcutter`s Son — текст песни (Paul Weller)

Sugartown has turned so sour
its people angry in their sleep
There`s more small-town paranoia
Sweeping down its evil sheets -
You can tell it`s witching hour
You can feel the spirits rise
When the room goes very quiet
And there`s hatred in their eyes -

You better give me the chance
I`ll cut you down with a glance
Yeh, with my small axe - so help me,
And tho` I`m only one
And tho` weak I`m strong
And if it comes to the crunch
Then I`m the woodcutter`s son

And I`m cutting down the wood for the
good of everyone!

There`s a silence when I enter
And a murmur when I leave
I can see their jealous faces
I can feel the ice they breathe