Free The Proles
Music File: Free The Proles.mp3
(4,464 kb)
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(Curtis on lead guitar)
My good friend Bob Sanders wrote the lyrics to
this song when we were
both proles with a capital 'P'
Cooper
/ Sanders © 1984
| C - - - | G - - - | F - - - | - - - - |
Alarm radio cuts apart my dreams on Monday morning
As I leave your side for the start of a working day
I stumble in the shower and wash off your lingering warmth
As I comb my hair I brush your love away
At six I’m in the kitchen with another cup of coffee
Thinking ‘bout the end of our weekend bliss
As I struggle through another day out trying to make a living
All I have is the memory of your kiss
Free the Proles! Free The Proles!
Walk out that door and face the hustle of the city
Catch the bus, go downtown on the subway
I try to think of you as I find a place to stand
And I hold onto what you had to say.
You say “Baby why we work so hard to give away our time?
What will we do to get our daily pay
Our we working for ourselves or making profits for another
Can this be all or is there a better way.”
Free the Proles! Free The Proles!
The work noise fills my mind I can hardly hear your voice
As I watch the clock the 2nd hand’s a snail
I put together parts of a whole I know not of
Is this a job or is this a daytime jail
When I finally make it home it seems years since I’ve been here
It takes forever to forget the pain
I’d melt into your arms. I would open up my heart
If I didn’t have to go to work again… no... no… no…
Free the Proles! Free The Proles!