 The door - to - door inspector lyrics ( Fatima mansions )   
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 Rate The Door - To - Door Inspector
Artist : Fatima mansions
Song : The door - to - door inspector
The door-to-door inspector, his knuckles bare and
white,
Is rapping on your window
’cause he knows you’re hiding here tonight
He’s travelled from the city to your country
slum
Under rain and black clouds
And the burnt-out silver sun
He’ll drop you where you stand
Lift the roof with his bare hands
And hand you down his just demands
As you huddle in your tiny corner
The door-to-door inspector now sits to eat his
lunch
He scowls at last week’s paper
In the worker’s cafe, hushed
You made your choice whan mocking the ways of
true grown men
Now may your woman-love protect you
As you face this grevious punishment you’ve
earned
He’ll drop you where you stand
Then journey home to wash those hands
And to his bed he’ll trembling go
Passion not spent, a man alone
(with his hand)
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