They worked through wind and rain to keep the roof above our heads Humbled time and time again what could they do? They crawled across your floors to keep and clean your houses Broken wounds and open sores what could they do? A little respect would have helped them through We are our father's dreams we are our mother's pride and joy And we will be the ones to tell you now that it's over You have no hold on us like the fear you laid on them We are the seeds they grew it's we that you must answer to Occasion in the village hall she speaks with rank and roses So high above them all what could they do? He struts with dog and gun they scramble through a heather hell Beat the ground until they run what could they do? A little respect would have helped them through