Текст песни: Presbyterian Homesick Blues + перевод

Nailed them to the trees

Tell you they are actual born in hell

To keep you on your knees

This place shuts down at midnight

This town where I was born

A nation struck by stagefright

People blessed by scorn

We’re busy doing nothing

No work the whole day through

We’re busy saving sinners

From the Presbyterian home set blues

There’s no clown shortage round here

Every Sunday 10am

But no-one's really laughing in the congregation

They chain up all the swingers

Cause swinging is a sin

You’ve got to die of boredom

Before they’ll let you in

We’re busy doing nothing

No work the whole day through

We’re busy saving sinners

From the Presbyterian home set blues

There’s talk of riots gatom bombs revolutions all day long

But in amongst the noise and haste what’s really going on

The kill will never leave you

It’ll keep you like a slave

With one foot in the past

And one foot in the grave

We’re busy doing nothing

No work the whole day through

We’re busy saving sinners

From the Presbyterian home set blues

We’re busy doing nothing

No work the whole day through

We’re busy saving sinners

From the Presbyterian home set blues

Перевод песни Presbyterian Homesick Blues