At the end of the day you're another day older.
And that's all you can say for the life of the poor.
It's a struggle, it's a war. And there's nothing that anyone's giving,
One more day standing about, what is it for?
One less day to be living.
At the end of the day you're another day colder.
And the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill.
And the righteous hurry past.
They don't hear the little ones crying,
And the winter is coming on fast ready to kill.
One day nearer to dying.
At the end of the day there's another day dawning.
And the sun in the morning is waiting to rise.
Like the waves crash on the sand, like a storm that'll break any second,
There's a hunger in the land.
There's a reckoning still to be reckoned.
And there's gonna be hell to pay at the end of the day.
At the end of the day you get nothing for nothing.
Sitting flat on your butt doesn't buy any bread.
There are children back at home. And the children have got to be fed.
And you're lucky to be in a job, and in a bed.
And we're counting our blessings.
At the end of the day it's another day over,
With enough in your pocket to last for a week.
Pay the landlord, pay the shop.
Keep on grafting as long as you're able.
Keep on grafting till you drop, or it's back to the crumbs off the table.
