Tether's End

I went down to the crossroads as the clock struck one, To Tether’s End I’m
bound,
Flat broken-hearted, bruised and burned,
Cash-strapped and dunce-capped from lessons never learned,
Up another junction, not knowing where to turn.
Come along with me my friend, I’m travelling to Tether’s End, I’m getting
closer every day.
I went down to the crossroads as the clock struck two, To Tether’s End I’m
bound,
That North Country never-never land had never passed the post,
Guardian angels, patron saints had given up the ghost,
Battalions of rapscallions had left us all for toast.
I went down to the crossroads as the clock struck eight, nine and ten,
To Tether’s End I’m bound,
I’d work my broken fingers black if only I could,
But there’s only open spaces where working places stood,
And the dreaded over-fed have displaced the great and good.
This way, that way, which way do you go? Wise old wives say, the devil only
knows.
So I went down to the crossroads as midnight tolled, To Tether’s End I’m bound,
There stood a posh politician with a heart as black as coal,
A long silver tongue wrapped around a pot of gold,
He said «I don’t want your votes son, I’m coming for your soul!»