Texty: Tilly and the Wall. o. Poor Man's Ice Cream.

The scent of flowers in the crowded street
A lonely bell singing for passing feet
You may not come in here

Sweaty day, dirty time to stand
Watch out mouth, hard argument
You may not come in here

Hey, fold your flag [Incomprehensible]
Hoist it up high to make it real
A canvas bag to fit it all
Hands suspended all, needs to bend and crawl

Well, whose land are you standing on?
Lines, lines, lines
Poor man?s ice cream
Poor man?s ice cream

And this is so, so, so real
You can see that shining in the gutter
It?s right over there, no, it?s not over here
And which way are you supposed to fear?
A full set of broken teeth to bear
It?s right over there, no, it?s not over here

They built a wall out of bricks
Made it real long, made sure everyone could see it
A message write and this
This is not your home, you do not belong

Well, whose land are you standing on?
They?re na, na, na, na knocking on your door
Well, whose land are you standing on?
They?re na, na, na, na knocking on your store

What were you dreaming of?
Yeah, what were you dreaming of?
Poor man?s ice cream
Poor man?s ice cream

What do you want from us?
Yeah, what do you want from us?
Poor man?s ice cream
Poor man?s ice cream

What were you dreaming of?
Yeah, what were you dreaming of?
Poor man?s ice cream
Poor man?s ice cream