Enough is Never Enough
๐ต 1188 characters
โฑ๏ธ 2:47 duration
๐ ID: 23425847
๐ Lyrics
It was a Tuesday
And it was... bleak
Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
Only knows the love that he was shown
He barges into a cafรฉ he owns
To bark marching orders
At poor Kitchen Porters
Fresh from the microwave
A sandwich is thrown
On a chipped plate
The kitchen is in a state
There's no need for pruning
When business is blooming
And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
Slips his mind as he
Dips his toes
Into the world of a well-known racist
Who explains it all in words he knows
These fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
The busker boy's chasing the dream
By the beggar with the card machine
And passing by the suit and tie Won't cast an eye
Too fixated on a screen
And 'blessed are the meek'
I've heard them say but honestly
There's no romance in poverty
When dinner is a novelty
And these fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
Trudging Galway streets alone
I can't help thinking, not to blame
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
It's with O' Leary on a plane
And everybody loves to bitch
Factions speak louder than herds
When rags to riches
Turns wags to witches
Fine feathers don't make fine birds
These fingers were made for pointing
And it was... bleak
Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
Only knows the love that he was shown
He barges into a cafรฉ he owns
To bark marching orders
At poor Kitchen Porters
Fresh from the microwave
A sandwich is thrown
On a chipped plate
The kitchen is in a state
There's no need for pruning
When business is blooming
And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
Slips his mind as he
Dips his toes
Into the world of a well-known racist
Who explains it all in words he knows
These fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
The busker boy's chasing the dream
By the beggar with the card machine
And passing by the suit and tie Won't cast an eye
Too fixated on a screen
And 'blessed are the meek'
I've heard them say but honestly
There's no romance in poverty
When dinner is a novelty
And these fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
Trudging Galway streets alone
I can't help thinking, not to blame
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
It's with O' Leary on a plane
And everybody loves to bitch
Factions speak louder than herds
When rags to riches
Turns wags to witches
Fine feathers don't make fine birds
These fingers were made for pointing
โฑ๏ธ Synced Lyrics
[00:09.47] It was a Tuesday
[00:11.06] And it was... bleak
[00:24.63] Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
[00:27.50] Only knows the love that he was shown
[00:30.75] He barges into a cafรฉ he owns
[00:34.12] To bark marching orders
[00:35.78] At poor Kitchen Porters
[00:37.52] Fresh from the microwave
[00:40.46] A sandwich is thrown
[00:41.98] On a chipped plate
[00:43.30] The kitchen is in a state
[00:46.47] There's no need for pruning
[00:48.01] When business is blooming
[00:49.53] And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
[00:52.42] Slips his mind as he
[00:54.02] Dips his toes
[00:55.88] Into the world of a well-known racist
[00:58.41] Who explains it all in words he knows
[01:01.95] These fingers were made for pointing
[01:13.76] And enough is never enough
[01:37.95] The busker boy's chasing the dream
[01:40.86] By the beggar with the card machine
[01:44.29] And passing by the suit and tie Won't cast an eye
[01:47.12] Too fixated on a screen
[01:50.22] And 'blessed are the meek'
[01:51.53] I've heard them say but honestly
[01:53.19] There's no romance in poverty
[01:54.63] When dinner is a novelty
[01:56.50] And these fingers were made for pointing
[02:08.33] And enough is never enough
[02:20.64] Trudging Galway streets alone
[02:23.59] I can't help thinking, not to blame
[02:26.68] Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
[02:29.56] It's with O' Leary on a plane
[02:32.79] And everybody loves to bitch
[02:35.84] Factions speak louder than herds
[02:38.78] When rags to riches
[02:40.07] Turns wags to witches
[02:42.16] Fine feathers don't make fine birds
[02:45.03] These fingers were made for pointing
[02:48.16]
[00:11.06] And it was... bleak
[00:24.63] Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
[00:27.50] Only knows the love that he was shown
[00:30.75] He barges into a cafรฉ he owns
[00:34.12] To bark marching orders
[00:35.78] At poor Kitchen Porters
[00:37.52] Fresh from the microwave
[00:40.46] A sandwich is thrown
[00:41.98] On a chipped plate
[00:43.30] The kitchen is in a state
[00:46.47] There's no need for pruning
[00:48.01] When business is blooming
[00:49.53] And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
[00:52.42] Slips his mind as he
[00:54.02] Dips his toes
[00:55.88] Into the world of a well-known racist
[00:58.41] Who explains it all in words he knows
[01:01.95] These fingers were made for pointing
[01:13.76] And enough is never enough
[01:37.95] The busker boy's chasing the dream
[01:40.86] By the beggar with the card machine
[01:44.29] And passing by the suit and tie Won't cast an eye
[01:47.12] Too fixated on a screen
[01:50.22] And 'blessed are the meek'
[01:51.53] I've heard them say but honestly
[01:53.19] There's no romance in poverty
[01:54.63] When dinner is a novelty
[01:56.50] And these fingers were made for pointing
[02:08.33] And enough is never enough
[02:20.64] Trudging Galway streets alone
[02:23.59] I can't help thinking, not to blame
[02:26.68] Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
[02:29.56] It's with O' Leary on a plane
[02:32.79] And everybody loves to bitch
[02:35.84] Factions speak louder than herds
[02:38.78] When rags to riches
[02:40.07] Turns wags to witches
[02:42.16] Fine feathers don't make fine birds
[02:45.03] These fingers were made for pointing
[02:48.16]