The flame

On the edge of the city
in the dust of the daylight
there's a place
where the truth cannot hide
There's no hell and no heaven
no sense in believing
all you have is your hope
and your pride
Rusting iron, bricks and paper
hold each other for shelter
so you sleep
and you call it home
You may just hear
the sound of the calm
before the storm
In my heart of the country
far away from the town
working day after day
in the factories and mines
And your name is a number
and your colour is black
it's the colour of midnight
and coal
Well, the young men are restless
and the old men are tired
always working for nothing
and being alone
You can feel the heat of the calm
before the storm
<chorus begin>
well, you can move a mountain
and shut out the sky
you can put out the fire
but the flame won't die
<chorus end>
Ohhhh...
As the smoke settles slowly
and the crowd clears away
the shouting is over
they have nothing to say
Nineteen voices of silence
lying dead in the street
nineteen voices are still now
ten thousand will fight
And you might know the voice of the calm
before the storm
[chorus]
[chorus]