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Shoes

Ron Trueman-Border
Language: English



Seaside town winters day English skies are always grey
Are you thinking of your home? So far away from home
Ice cold wind cuts right through the coat the boss man sold to you
Are you thinking of your home? So far away from home

Little red shoes on the sand little red shoes on the shore

You’re strangers in this strange land nobody knows who you are
Shells like razors drawing blood as your hands turn blue in the silt and the mud
Are you thinking of your home? So far away from home
Sunrise until darkness falls as you labour for your bread and board
Are you thinking of your home? So far away from home

Little red shoes on the sand little red shoes on the shore

Who’s to blame and who will pay who’ll count the lives that were lost that day

To the gangsters greed and the crashing waves as the tide rushed in on Morecambe bay
A better life a brighter day when the cruel sea washed all your dreams away
Were you thinking of your home? So far away from home

Little red shoes on the sand little red shoes on the shore
Nobody knows your name nobody knows who you were.


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