| 作词 : Macdonald, Peters | |
| Hey now! The iron gates clang in a steel mill town | |
| A man breaks down to that unemployment sound | |
| He takes a last walk down that old coast road | |
| In the dying death throes of all that he knows | |
| The sight of those men walking through the gates | |
| Was like a lame pit pony at the end of its days (Fire, Fire, Fire) | |
| In a Deeside town eight thousand went down | |
| In a February day in the driving rain | |
| No winners just losers and cuts and bruises | |
| As the picket lines fell, the industry died | |
| There's still one question after all this time | |
| Is a working man bom to live and then die? | |
| Fire Fire | |
| Fire. To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he's down (Down to the ground) (Hey now) | |
| And Lady Luck smiles on the few in this world | |
| And I hope and | |
| I pray that she smiles on you | |
| I ain't gonna preach, no | |
| I ain't gonna teach | |
| I 'm just gonna sing about the things that | |
| I need A little bit of love, a little bit of hope | |
| A little bit of strength, some fuel for the fire (Fire Fire Fire) | |
| To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he's down. (Down to the ground) | |
| A little bit of love, a little bit of hope | |
| A little bit of strength, some fuel for the fire (Fire Fire Fire) | |
| To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he's down. | |
| And all around the world the lights are going down. |
| zuo ci : Macdonald, Peters | |
| Hey now! The iron gates clang in a steel mill town | |
| A man breaks down to that unemployment sound | |
| He takes a last walk down that old coast road | |
| In the dying death throes of all that he knows | |
| The sight of those men walking through the gates | |
| Was like a lame pit pony at the end of its days Fire, Fire, Fire | |
| In a Deeside town eight thousand went down | |
| In a February day in the driving rain | |
| No winners just losers and cuts and bruises | |
| As the picket lines fell, the industry died | |
| There' s still one question after all this time | |
| Is a working man bom to live and then die? | |
| Fire Fire | |
| Fire. To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he' s down Down to the ground Hey now | |
| And Lady Luck smiles on the few in this world | |
| And I hope and | |
| I pray that she smiles on you | |
| I ain' t gonna preach, no | |
| I ain' t gonna teach | |
| I ' m just gonna sing about the things that | |
| I need A little bit of love, a little bit of hope | |
| A little bit of strength, some fuel for the fire Fire Fire Fire | |
| To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he' s down. Down to the ground | |
| A little bit of love, a little bit of hope | |
| A little bit of strength, some fuel for the fire Fire Fire Fire | |
| To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he' s down. | |
| And all around the world the lights are going down. |
| zuò cí : Macdonald, Peters | |
| Hey now! The iron gates clang in a steel mill town | |
| A man breaks down to that unemployment sound | |
| He takes a last walk down that old coast road | |
| In the dying death throes of all that he knows | |
| The sight of those men walking through the gates | |
| Was like a lame pit pony at the end of its days Fire, Fire, Fire | |
| In a Deeside town eight thousand went down | |
| In a February day in the driving rain | |
| No winners just losers and cuts and bruises | |
| As the picket lines fell, the industry died | |
| There' s still one question after all this time | |
| Is a working man bom to live and then die? | |
| Fire Fire | |
| Fire. To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he' s down Down to the ground Hey now | |
| And Lady Luck smiles on the few in this world | |
| And I hope and | |
| I pray that she smiles on you | |
| I ain' t gonna preach, no | |
| I ain' t gonna teach | |
| I ' m just gonna sing about the things that | |
| I need A little bit of love, a little bit of hope | |
| A little bit of strength, some fuel for the fire Fire Fire Fire | |
| To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he' s down. Down to the ground | |
| A little bit of love, a little bit of hope | |
| A little bit of strength, some fuel for the fire Fire Fire Fire | |
| To build the ships to set the sails | |
| To cross the sea of fools | |
| To be dealt the cards | |
| To play our hand | |
| To win or else to lose | |
| In this cruel world that kicks a man when he' s down. | |
| And all around the world the lights are going down. |