| Me mother always said to me |
| «There's no rest for the wicked |
| You’re on a handcart bound for hell |
| And on a one-way ticket» |
| But when the road calls out to you |
| And you have the urge for roving |
| It’s too late then to change your mind |
| About the life you’ve chosen |
| There is no end in sight |
| And the fire is brightly burning |
| We’ll curse and swear without a care |
| As the hands of time keep turning |
| There is no end in sight |
| And we’re not speculating |
| We’ll sing and play and tear away |
| And keep the devil waiting |
| After fifty years or more |
| We thought we might retire |
| But sitting on me arse all day |
| Is not what I desire |
| There must be something more in life |
| Than going out to pasture |
| But I’ll be damned if I give in |
| And age becomes me master |
| There is no end in sight |
| And the fire is brightly burning |
| We’ll curse and swear without a care |
| As the hands of time keep turning |
| There is no end in sight |
| And we’re not speculating |
| We’ll sing and play and tear away |
| And keep the devil waiting |
| As you’d expect, there’s some regrets |
| But time has ways of healing |
| Slight will ease and fade away |
| And peace-of-mind comes stealing |
| Life’s too short to fuss and fight |
| Or dwell on loss and sorrow |
| We’ll ramble on and let the others |
| Worry 'bout tomorrow |
| There is no end in sight |
| And the fire is brightly burning |
| We’ll curse and swear without a care |
| As the hands of time keep turning |
| There is no end in sight |
| And we’re not speculating |
| We’ll sing and play and tear away |
| And keep the devil waiting |
| Music soothes the savage breast |
| And keeps the soul from dying |
| It stirs the blood and churns the heart |
| Of that, there’s no denying |
| Oh, may the Sentient Art prevail |
| And may its notes keep ringing |
| May bards and poets lead the way |
| And keep the whole world singing |
| There is no end in sight |
| And the fire is brightly burning |
| We’ll curse and swear without a care |
| As the hands of time keep turning |
| There is no end in sight |
| And we’re not speculating |
| We’ll sing and play and tear away |
| And keep the devil waiting |
| There is no end in sight |
| And we’re not speculating |
| We’ll sing and play and tear away |
| And keep the devil waiting |