Bad Luck

Pass tense people on the streets

You can see it from your steeple

Marbles crawling from under your eyelids mean nothing here

Still rather suck up what's ours then let trickle down your own

Live in the eye of the cyclone

We see stars above your head through golden bars

I pass tense people on the streets

Crippled with triple so-called bad luck

You know, we all think that working in these mines serves us well

I still hope that clouds don't blot out all the beautiful sights from up there

You live in the eye of the cyclone

We see stars above your head through golden bars