The Fatima Mansions - The Door-To-Door Inspector lyrics
[The Fatima Mansions - The Door-To-Door Inspector lyrics]
The door-to door inspector
His knuckles bare and white
Is rapping on your window
'cause he knows you're hiding here tonight
He's travelled from the city
To your country slum
Under rain and black clouds
And the burnt-out silver sun
He'll drop you where you stand
Lift the roof with his bare hands
And hand you down his just demands
As you huddle in your tiny corner
The door-to door inspector now sit's
To eat his lunch
He scowls at last week's paper
In the worker's cafe, hushed
You made your choice whan mocking the
Ways of true grown men
Now may your woman-love protect you
As you face this grevious
Punishment you've earned
He'll drop you where you stand
Then journey home to wash those hands
And to his bed he'll trembling go
Passion not spent, a man alone
(with his hand)
His knuckles bare and white
Is rapping on your window
'cause he knows you're hiding here tonight
He's travelled from the city
To your country slum
Under rain and black clouds
And the burnt-out silver sun
He'll drop you where you stand
Lift the roof with his bare hands
And hand you down his just demands
As you huddle in your tiny corner
The door-to door inspector now sit's
To eat his lunch
He scowls at last week's paper
In the worker's cafe, hushed
You made your choice whan mocking the
Ways of true grown men
Now may your woman-love protect you
As you face this grevious
Punishment you've earned
He'll drop you where you stand
Then journey home to wash those hands
And to his bed he'll trembling go
Passion not spent, a man alone
(with his hand)