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The Anticapitalist Roadshow Double CD (including 29 songs and a poem) is available now, at a price of £15 plus postage (let us know if you are low-waged or unwaged and we will offer you a lower price) You can order a CD by emailing info@anticapitalistroadshow.co.uk, and you will be able to pay by paypal. Below you’ll find the lyrics to the songs and poem on the CD. You can download them as a pdf and print them off here (32 pages, 115kb), or you can read them online below |
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Anticapitalist Roadshow CD Lyrics Copyright of all lyrics and words remains with the writer. Disc 1
Be Reasonable (3.30) (R. Johnson) We’ll rehouse the homeless in Buckingham Palace, Start at the bottom, work down to the top, Stop the city, rebuild the forest, Cancel the rent, nick all the cops, Be reasonable, and demand the impossible now.
We’ll turn all the motorways into canals, Close all the Aldermastons down, All differences equalled, systems for people, Not the other way around, Be reasonable…
We’ll spring all the animals, vote for the clowns In the Circus Bourgeoisie, Where the rich sing the blues till their trousers fall down Then they give you the price of a nice cup of tea, Be reasonable…
Grow gardens and hospitals on every street, Sunflowers, playgrounds and schools Where you do what you like cos you like what you do And we’ll stop the war once and for all, Be reasonable….
No master, no landlord, no flag, no guru, No Gauleiter, no commissar, Just justice and poetry and jam on it too, and when they ask: who’s in charge here? We all say: we are. Be reasonable…
Maggie Thatcher's Dream (3.25) (G. Petrie) I could forgive you if you thought You've been sold short I'm a bad investment of the RBS sort Working round the clock To try and raise my stock Do you regret getting in my boat When we're trying to stay afloat And I have the buoyancy of a Northern Rock? When I looked at the big picture I saw the rich getting richer When I tried to play the long game I was on the losing team. Can I be so middle class and still end up on my ass? Is this my economic nightmare or just Maggie Thatcher's dream? And there's not enough money in the bank Not enough petrol in the tank When this month's overdraft fees are gonna bring me to my knees I've got the city boys' bonuses to thank Another charge to the list Another direct debit missed When the latest petrol prices fuel my private credit crisis Oh, I know this ain't no way to exist. When I looked at the big picture I saw the rich getting richer When I tried to play the long game I was on the losing team. Does my whole life just amount to what's in my bank account? Is this my credit rating nightmare or just a capitalist's dream? When greed and ambition went and formed a Coalition No such thing as Big Society, and no one on my team. When there's no one left to vote for, are we all in the same boat Or is that just a crazy optimist singing socialism's dream? And I know you'd live with me my darling in a cardboard box But I'd rather build you a castle with doors and locks Something to own, something to call our home Foundations made of stone And I almost had it, you know. But when I looked at the big picture I saw the rich getting richer When I tried to play the long game I was on the losing team. Can I be so middle class and still end up on my ass? Is this my economic nightmare or just Maggie Thatcher's dream?
3. BENEFITS ( 4.25) (L. Rosselson) Come all you skivers, welfare cheats Wake up and hear the news that it’s Not going to be a life-style choice To sit at home and live on benefits.
Consider now the case of one Who’s never worked - let’s call him Jim. Age 30, still lives with his mum Some think him slow, some call him dim. Now Jim has an allotment He inherited it from his dad. He spends his daylight hours there Some call him weird, some think him sad.
Yes Jim’s a skiver, welfare cheat He doesn’t understand that it’s....
I often pass the allotments with their Neat and tidy rows and rows Of onions, carrots, peas and beans. Jim’s patch of earth is not like those. I’ve seen him digging, planting there In winter winds and April showers But Jim’s an awkward bugger cos On his allotment he grows flowers.
Yes Jim’s a skiver, welfare cheat ....
He loves his pretty coloured flowers The other gardeners aren’t best pleased. You can’t eat flowers, Jim, they say. Don’t think he know he’s being teased. They think he’s let the side down. Was it One of them who snitched on him? Cos one fine day two men in suits Turned up and wanted words with Jim.
They warned him, skivers, welfare cheats Are going to have to learn that it’s.....
They told him they would call him in To take a new computer test. To see if he was fit for work He needed to be reassessed. Jim said, I work. They said, you don’t. He handed them the spade he used As if to say, you try it then. They were distinctly unamused.
They made it clear that welfare cheats Were going to have to learn that it’s...
They tried their best to make him see That welfare cheating was a crime. Work’s what they pay you for, they said, Not what you do in your spare time. Soon after that Jim disappeared. His patch in which he took such pride Was left uncared for all year long. His flowers withered soon and died.
We heard that he had failed the test And so he learned at last that it’s...
Sent for a night job office cleaning Poverty pay, unsocial hours. He couldn’t seem to grasp his duties Spent his work time drawing flowers. They reassessed him once again Not fit for work this time around So now he’s back where he’s most happy Planting flowers on his home ground.
I see him smiling to himself And wonder, is he quite so dim? Or is he really faking it? And if he is, good luck to Jim.
4. Can We Afford the Doctor? (3.38) (S. Kerr) Can we afford the doctor The dentist, the midwife, the nurse? It doesn’t seem fair that medical care Should depend on the state of your purse. I know it’s a hard pill to swallow And what should we take for a cure? And if only the rich can afford to be sick How cheap are the lives of the poor?
An apple a day keeps the doctor away You’ve heard the old saying , no doubt And I’m sure it is true, but between me and you There ain’t many apples about Though they grow on a tree, money doesn’t you see And you’ve got to have money to buy It’s the same with your health, it depends on your wealth And if you are poor you must cry....
Well we had a long wait but the new Welfare State Brought the NHS and peace of mind New glasses , new teeth, and – what a relief No medical fees we’d to find But you have to watch out There are MPs about Who would sell it as quick as a flash To their pals, old school chums Who just sit on their bums And do nothing but rake in the cash
And.... In these troubled days the govt. says We’ve got to make cuts to survive. But should the pounds and the pence Be spent on defence or keep the Health Service alive? It’s time to take stock, not turn back the clock To those terrible bad good old days It’s OUR NHS nothing more nothing less And never again must we say....
5. Encouragement (2.29) (W. Biermann) Don't you rely on toughness in these hard hard times. The toughness will possess you, the sternness will oppress you And cause your strength to die. Don't let your strength die. Don't let them make you bitter in these bitter times That's what they always hope for that long before the struggle We would give up the fight. Let's not give up the fight. Don't let the fear invade you in these fearful times For it will build around you a wall that blocks your way And their power will survive. Don't let their power survive. Don't you rely on silence, we must not waste our time. So little to rely on, rely on us we rely on you We give each other life. We give each other life. We won't get lost in silence in these numbing times With hope the trees may flourish, Then we’ll stand strong and honest And these will be our times. And these will be our times.
6. U In Union (2.02) (Si Kahn) Blessed are the weak Blessed are the poor Blessed those who love their neighbour Blessed are the children Blessed are the meek Blessed are the ones who labour.
Chorus: Lift up your eyes Lift up your voice Come to the grand reunion Give us your hand Join in our band You are the U in Union.
Tattered and tossed Scattered and lost All of these years divided Each one is special Each plays a part When we are all united.
Chorus ….
All from our birth Promised the earth Let us unite and share it Seeking for justice Here in this world We shall one day inherit.
Chorus….
7. Doggone, Occupation Is On (2.31) (H. Jenkins/D. Lippman/ Peggy Seeger) I reckon those bankers shoulda never been bailed They should be sitting tonight in jail No use waiting for the bye and bye Let's get together and occupy. Doggone, occupation is on.
The top one percent are feelin' fine We're here to represent the other 99 We may be sitting down but we're standing tall After the Arab Spring comes the European fall Doggone, occupation is on.
I asked about Wall Street, what's all the fuss? They said, We occupy Wall Street 'cause it occupies us Corporations on top that's how the world is run Now times are a-changing and the future's begun Doggone, occupation is on.
You know, I need a job to pay my debts Money talks so loud it shuts up all the rest Downsize, merge all across the nation Lost my job but found an occupation Doggone, occupation is on.
We're gonna sit here, we're not gonna shirk You can tell we're workers 'cause we're out of work We want justice and we want it now To hell with the Footsie and down with the Dow (Jones) Doggone, occupation is on.
We can't wait for Kingdom Come We're asking: "What would Jesus have done?" He'd evict the moneylenders - he'd occupy Like us he'd say the beginning is nigh.
All over the world you can hear the call Housing, jobs and justice, human rights for all Spain, Greece, Egypt and the USA Everywhere you go, you'll hear 'em say Doggone, occupation is on.
8. The Criminal (3.10) (J. Woodland) Yesterday she was a Bank Manager’s daughter Protesting at St Paul’s At least until they caught her. A bailiff grabbed her by the arm, She didn’t want to contradict She said, Young man take off your hand He said, Right that’s it, you’re nicked. And she said Oh Gor Blimey it’s a fair cop Guv, Got me bang to rights. I’ve been fitted up like a kipper Bound over to keep the peace tonight I’ll have mother tattooed on me arm And have my hair cut short Now I am a criminal though minimal I fit the bill A criminal and I’ve been caught.
Yesterday she thought the protesters were scruffy But now on second thoughts she doesn’t feel so stuffy Section this and section that The criminal justice, public order act She may be guilty as charged But her world has been enlarged She’s a criminal and that’s a fact. And she says Oh Gor Blimey it’s a fair cop Guv. Got me bang to rights I’m up in front of the beak tomorrow Stone me don’t I look a sight Send me off to a rotting hulk Without a second thought Now I am a gangster, a thankless prankster A criminal I’ve been caught. She says
Yesterday I was as innocent as a tree is That’s all changed because where I want to be is On the steps in the open air And now they accuse me Of disrupting, intimidating and obstructing A lawful activity Now she says Oh Gor Blimey it’s a fair cop Guv Got me bang to rights I’m in the frame. They know my little game I’m stitched up good and tight Send me down for a stretch or two or three or four or more Today I am a terrorist. I’ll tell you this they slap your wrist. A criminal and I’ve been caught
And so she came to be involved in conversation About democracy in a wealth divided nation. Staring at the Stock Exchange She felt the penny drop. ‘They took our taxes now in fact It’s them who should be stopped’… And she says Oh Gor Blimey it’s a fair cop We’ve got them bang to rights!!!! I’ll break the law as I did before for what I think is right I’ve been bound over to keep the peace and I suppose I ought I’m a hooligan. I’d do it all again. I’m one of them I am A criminal and I’ve been caught.
Now I am a gangster, a thankless prankster A criminal I’ve been caught Today I am a terrorist. I’ll tell you this they slap your wrist. A criminal and I’ve been caught A pinko and an anarchist, a rampant anti capitalist Criminal and I’ve been caught!...Take me away…
9. The Band Played On (4.02) (R. Johnson) We said our goodbyes at Southampton Sailing away at fullsteam Sailing away for a new world With all of our hopes and our dreams A citadel crossing the ocean The largest the world’s ever seen Sailing away for the future The progress of steel and machines and the band played on and Oh how we danced
The poor kept locked down in the steerage The deck above them second class And the top deck the finest of luxury Bone china, white linen, cut glass. Below us the dark rolling ocean Above us the dark falling night And the crew keep the great engines turning And our world is this factory of light
None of us foresaw the iceberg, None of us foresaw the Somme The night and the fog and the gulags, The flash of the hydrogen bomb
The band played on…. Nobody counted the lifeboats The company cutting their costs And the hopes and the dreams of a century Were suddenly scattered and lost And behold the twin towers of Manhattan The tallest the world’s ever seen And the poor kept locked down by computers The progress of oil and machines The band played on….
10. Song of the Olive Tree (5.46) (L. Rosselson) My father's father's father planted here In this now broken earth an olive tree And as a child I sang to it my secrets And as I grew I felt it part of me. Its branches gave me shelter from the sun Its grey green leaves shaded my young dreams The fruit it bore was like a gift of hope Of all the olive trees I loved this one.
The settlers came, they beat us black and blue They said, “Next time we shoot you. Understand?” But still we dared to come we had no choice We came at night like thieves to our own land. Like ghosts we came, men, women, young and old To pick the crop as we have always done For centuries we harvested in peace The oil we pressed was sweet, precious as gold.
Now look. This is a cemetery for trees. Their great machines crushed hope into despair They ripped the heart from every living tree Except for one, my tree they chose to spare. They dug it up, they smuggled it away This ancient tree, they saw it as a prize For some Israeli rich enough to pay Five thousand dollars' worth, that's what they say.
Do you believe in ghosts? Last night I dreamed My father's father's father came to me He took my hand and held it in his own And said, Take heart, here is my olive tree. And when I woke it was a kind of birth And in my hand I found an olive stone And in the field where once my tree had been A thousand shapes arose out of the earth.
I saw their faces, women, children, men And each hand held a perfect olive stone And each heart held a vision of to come When all our olive trees will rise again.
11. Looters (4.02) (L. Rosselson) Criminality pure and simple Decent people all agree Looting shops and burning buildings Didn’t you watch it on TV? Cameras, sports bags, clothes, computers Mobile phones and branded shoes Flat screen TVs, playstations Cigarettes and bottles of booze. You smash up the shops and you get free stuff It’s all about the money nowadays...innit.
The lower classes on the rampage Moral panic in the press Beat them, birch them, hang them, shoot them Looters deserve nothing less.... But why the anger? Why the outrage? Why the demonising hate? Aren’t they just following in the footsteps Of those who made this country great?....
Francis Drake now there’s a looter Plundering the Spanish main Burning towns and looting treasures Pride of England scourge of Spain Was rewarded with a knighthood Looters deserve nothing less Made himself a tidy fortune And lots of dosh for good Queen Bess....
Clive and the East India Company Fattened on the spoils of war Taxed the peasants into famine Found India rich and left it poor. If the natives dared rebel Their imperial masters made them pay Tied them to the cannon’s muzzle Blew them flesh and bones away....
The Brutish Empire built on looting Grab the land and make the laws Then everything the land produces - Coffee, diamonds, gold - is yours. So we got sugar, cotton, spices Rubber, tin, tobacco, tea They got cricket and the Bible And our royal family....
Take a look at our museums Plundered treasures on display That gold crown looted from Magdala Admire it at the V & A. The Rosetta Stone, the Elgin Marbles Neil Macgregor’s Benin plaque A history of the world in loot - Isn’t it time we gave them back?....
Looting - a great British pastime The upper classes loot by stealth Bankers, tycoons, city gamblers Siphon off the nation’s wealth. Centuries of high-class looting Payback time is overdue Hyde Park, Kensington and Knightsbridge - Watch out! Next time it could be you....
12. I Didn't Raise My Son to be a Soldier (2.51) (Anon.) I didn't raise my son to be a soldier I raised him up to be my pride and joy. Why should he put a musket to his shoulder To kill another mother's darling boy? Why should he fight in someone else's quarrels? It's time to throw the sword and gun away There would be no war today If the nations all would say No I didn't raise my son to be a soldier. I didn't raise my son to be a soldier To go fighting in some far-off foreign land He may get killed before he's any older For a cause that he will never understand. Why should he fight another rich man's battle While they stay at home and while their time away? Let those with most to lose Fight each other if they choose For I didn't raise my son to be a soldier. I didn't raise my son to be a soldier Fighting in a trench from night till morn If God required to prove that boys are bolder They'd have uniforms and guns when they were born. Why should we have wars about religion When the Bible tells us all , Thou shalt not kill? But the rich they have one law There’s another for the poor And I didn't raise my son to be a soldier. I didn't raise my son to be a soldier I raised him up to be a gentle man To find a sweet young girl and love and hold her Bring me some grandchildren when they can. Why can't we decide that the Empire Is just as large as it requires to be? And I'd rather lose it all Than to see my laddie fall For I didn't raise my son to be a soldier.
13. Guns and Bombs (3.58) (J. Russell) The economy’s in ruins And it’s all down to the doin’s Of the previous Labour government you’ll agree You can’t sit on the fence Well, it’s only common sense And we’re all in this together, don’t you see? So let’s celebrate our strengths We’ll go to any lengths To work hard and make the economy fly With finance and with banks But mostly, guns and tanks And we’ll sell them all to anyone who’ll buy.
We’ll sell them guns and bombs and bombs and guns And all the infrastructure For delivery to the enemies of their state With tanks and jetfighters To get the blooming blighters Just sign our contract now, no need to wait. Aung San Suu Kyi How nice it is to see That the military have recognised your status It’s no small thing To be taken under our wing And we know that as an ally you must rate us But a quiet word in your ear Our economy’s flat I fear And there are things you need, that we have in great store The trade where we excel I am very proud to tell Is in weaponry and theatre of war.
We’ll sell you guns and bombs and bombs and guns And all the infrastructure For delivery to whoever poses threat With tanks and jetfighters To get the blooming blighters We have everything you need, we sell the set.
Mr. Ahmedinejad The relationship we’ve had Is becoming rather tetchy, sad to say But despite the nuclear issue We’d just like to continue To sell arms to you in the same old way We’re a trusted supplier For many eastern buyers Egypt, Jordan, Kuwait and Bahrain Saudi and the U.A.E. Are valued customers, you’ll see But with Bahrain, perhaps, we need to think again.
We sell them guns and bombs and bombs and guns And all the infrastructure For delivery to their enemy of choice With tanks and jetfighters To get the blooming blighters Who suddenly decide they have a voice.
It’s never been hard to sell Our arms to Israel Who need tools to hold their borders - and expand In spite of UN resolutions There is no real solution Except for them to buy our stuff and take more land Prime Minister Netanyahu Is surrounded by a few Of our customers - but not his friends Egypt and Jordan And the Lebanon And we’ll sell, of course, to anyone who spends.
We sell them guns and bombs and bombs and guns And all the infrastructure For delivery to enemies far and near With tanks and jetfighters To get the blooming blighters If it’s weaponry you need, we have the gear.
If a situation’s tricky, There’s no use being picky Business is business, after all We cater to demand With a very even hand No matter who you are, give us a call.
We’ll sell you guns and bombs and bombs and guns And all the infrastructure For delivery to whoever poses threat With tanks and jetfighters To get the blooming blighters We have everything you need, we sell the set.
We’ll sell you guns and bombs and bombs and guns And all the infrastructure For delivery to the enemies of your state With tanks and jetfighters To get the blooming blighters Just sign our contract now, no need to wait.
14. Protest Singer Blues (4.06) (G. Petrie) Several years ago I slept through an alarm And I've been playing catch-up since And every now and then the sight of my reflection Makes me stop and wince. How many deaths will it take 'til we know Too many people have died? Well I regret, we haven't got there yet And time, it isn't on our side
And I should hang up my guitar If I've got nothing new to say It's all been done before And better, I am sure And I'll be standing by the bar Wondering what to play To try and change the world Where better songs have failed And here I am again Hoping for a win Standing in the rain Soaking to the skin Looking for a change Though I've been listening There's no answer blowin' in the wind.
Several years ago I think I missed a train And I'm still catching up the time It doesn't matter how quickly I'm going I never reached the end of the line. How many times can a man turn his head And pretend he just doesn't see? 'Cause I'm ashamed, the times they have a-changed And a better world was not to be.
15. Bread and Roses (3.56) (M. Whelan) If we don’t have our dreams What do we live for? If we don’t have our dreams What did James Connolly die for?
Chorus: Look up the sky is burning With blood that workers shed We’ll carry on the battle For roses and bread. Bread and roses Roses and bread We’ll carry on the battle For roses and bread.
He was born to organise That’s what James Larkin* lived for For being a union man That’s what Joe Hill was killed for.
Chorus…
With dreams in solid steel That’s what Mandela lived for. For dreaming of what might be That’s what Allende died for.
Chorus…
Let’s dream that dream of dreams Of life without sorrow. And maybe our dreams Will build a new tomorrow.
* I sing: ‘Jack Jones’ in place of James Larkin, in order to link the song to Britain. I don’t think it detracts from Martin’s song in any way – Martin references Republic of Ireland, S. Africa, Argentina and the USA - to which I’ve added Britain.
Disc 2
The Vision (4.08) (I. Saville) “The world has changed," they said, "all your ideals Mean nothing now, they won't buy any meals. Hard cash is what we live by, and our mission Is beat the others, win the competition. Our system rules this planet, always will" They blustered and they bullied me until I quite forgot - why was I a Socialist? ...
... Then in the distance I saw a mist And the mist turned into a cloud. And as I stood and watched, each drop Of vapour turned into a face. The crowd Moved around me in laughter and song With eyes that were bright and voices strong Each face separate and distinct. Though all in common purpose linked. But who were these people? Somehow I knew That if only I guessed, my guess would be true. And so I decided that one band of figures From centuries past were Winstanley's Diggers Proclaiming all folk were of equal worth To share in the treasures of the Earth. Some Luddites were holding a great hammer high They'd been slandered by history, but I could see why They'd set about smashing their masters' machines Which were not tools of progress, but used as a means To steal from these people their labour and skill And ensure they were bent to their masters' will. Some faces I knew - Paul Robeson was giving Full voice to a tune that said Joe Hill was living. Joe smiled, and agreed that in each mine and mill Where the workers were fighting his spirit lived still. Mary Seacole was resting from easing the pain Of those men sent to die so their rulers might gain. She's forgotten by history - her skin wasn't pale Though she healed just as surely as Nurse Nightingale. Harriet Tubman rejoiced with the slaves that she'd freed From those 'civilised' gentlemen driven by greed. From Central America, no more invisible Those who vanished from lands where dissent's not permissible. Karen Silkwood, who died fighting nuclear might. Blair Peach - killed by police for supporting the right To protest against fascism. Others who'd died Fighting fascist battalions in Spain's countryside. There was Sacco, Vanzetti. There were Suffragettes too. There were miners and matchgirls, and some people who Had been friends of mine. They died with much still to give But they'd all used their lives to find new ways to live. Gazing in awe on this great panorama I wondered what part it could play in my drama. Then, as I wondered, they all spoke in chorus: "There's something," they said "that we'd quite like done for us "We are dead, and our life's work is not yet fulfilled For we all tried, in some different manner, to build A world that is decent and honest and fair Where we all get what's needed, and what's left we share But the world is not like that - that's clear and that's plain And we're not blaming you, but don't make it in vain That we lived lives of struggle - continue the fight While you live, you can change things - we know that that's right." And I looked, and I saw that in each of their eyes Stood a part of a new world, and to my surprise I could now see what they saw, and so understood We become fully human by working for good. We may fail, but it's better to know that we've been A part of humanity - not a machine. My strength was redoubled, my hope was renewed As I shared in the vision of these comrades who'd Bequeathed us their talent, their wisdom, their love And the knowledge that our deeds can make the world move.
Rosa's Lovely Daughters (4.14) (R. Johnson) Who's that walking miles for water? Who's that sweat-shoppin' all the day long? From the hot south, to the cold north Who are these proud and strong?
We are Rosa's lovely daughters, we are no man's blushing bride We are Rosa's lovely daughters and we will not be denied.
From the workbench in the back room To the benchmarks on the bed From the mad mothers to the peace campers Who are these seeing red?
Chorus
See the fathers handshake their bargains While their good wives stand round and they weep But we’re singing as we're dancing We are no man's to give or to keep.
Chorus Wearing trousers or short skirts (as we please!) We’ll walk at night together in the centre of town We are free spirits taking the night back We are wildfire across dry ground. Chorus (alt. last verse written by Janet Russell with Robb’s permission)
3. My Personal Revenge (2.16) (L. Godoy. Translation J. Calderon) My personal revenge will be the rights Of our children in the schools and in the garden My personal revenge will be to give you This song that has flourished without panic. My personal revenge will be to show you The kindness in the eyes of my people Who have always fought relentlessly in battle And been generous and firm in victory. My personal revenge will be to tell you "Good day" On a street without beggars or homeless And instead of jailing you, I suggest You shake away the sadness there that binds you. And when you, who have applied your hands in torture, Are unable to look up at what's around you, My personal revenge will be to give you These hands that once you so mistreated But have failed to take away their tenderness. It was the people who Hated you the most When rage became the language of their song, And underneath the skin of this town today The people's hearts rise up with pride. And it was the people who hated you the most When rage became the language of their song And underneath the skin of this town today - Red and black, the people’s hearts rise up with pride.
Miracles (4.49) (J. Woodland) If you sit back for a while, rest and smile and close your eyes, When you wake up everything will be alright. You just take a little rest, get it all off your chest and close your eyes And when you wake up everything will be alright, But they don't fool me... I don't believe in miracles and I don't believe it's true. One light, one fight, one little dance... That's all you do. I don't believe in fairytales, and I don't believe in lies. We don't need to fly but still we try and that's all we do... That's all we do...
I am ready to believe that the dead will rise and the blind will see And the sun will shine from underneath the sea. I could easily accept that a man could walk across the sky, But when they ask me to believe the rich would let the poor go free... I don't believe in miracles and I don't believe it's true. One light, one fight, one little dance... That's all you do. I don't believe in fairytales, and I don't believe in lies. We don't need to fly but still we try and that's all we do... That's all we do...
I've seen your dreams nailed up to a tree and left up there to die But I'm ready to believe that one day they will rise. I can feel it in my bones if you role away the stone you can step into the light And the meek will inherit everything here, but not by being meek I fear... I don't believe in miracles and I don't believe it's true. One light, one fight, one little dance... That's all you do. I don't believe in fairytales, and I don't believe in lies. We don't need to fly but still we try and that's all we do... That's all we do...
Everybody knows that the yellow brick road goes up into the sky And the fairy lives on top of the Christmas tree. And fish can walk and dogs can talk and pigs can probably fly But when they ask me just to wait for my rewards at the pearly gates... I don't believe in miracles and I don't believe it's true. One light, one fight, one little dance... That's all you do. I don't believe in fairytales, and I don't believe in lies. We don't need to fly but still we try and that's all we do... That's all we do…
5. Farewell to Welfare (4.47) (G. Petrie) It's never too late To recapture the benefits of Section 28 And it's never too wild To change GCSEs grade boundaries, the only victim is the child And oh, who's gonna be my Martin Luther King, And I'll say who's gonna be my Harvey Milk? And on the steps of Parliament they're demonstrating But what's the use when they're all cut from the same Eton silk I'll say farewell, farewell to welfare.
And we've got a recession to beat So let's put more money into the Jubilee, and a millionaire in Downing Street And we've all got to pay the bills But when we all work for free I don't see how we ever will And if I keep my receipts, can I claim back the mistakes And the lives ruined by this government? Or in another 18 years of budget cuts and tears Will the people pay for those, just like we pay your rent? And say farewell, farewell to welfare.
So give me change, give me equality Give me a minister for women that don't represent me Give me a decent honest Nick who's on the level Until the first glimpse of power, make a deal with the devil And you tell me that this is democracy And you tell me that it ain't no old boys' club And as the thousands march on Westminster, Look how quickly their demands are snubbed And you ask me, "Where is the youth vote?" Well they didn't let me in, so you'll find me in the pub Raising a toast to the ghost of welfare And I used to dream of a Britain Where I'd be proud to bring up kids These days I'd settle for a Britain Where I'd be allowed to bring up kids And Mrs May, if I may Be so bold as to say That your archaic view of family Holds no relevance today And if you think that honest people Should be turned away From IVF and BandBs Just because they're gay Then I suggest you stop requesting That we continue to pay Our taxes to a party that's Held us back all the way I'll take my business, and my produce, and my income tax elsewhere And say farewell, farewell to welfare I'll say farewell, farewell to welfare They'll say to hell, to hell with welfare And I'll say farewell, farewell to welfare
6. Progress Train (3.55) (Peggy Seeger) The human brain can't stand still Even when it gets to the top of the hill Just can't stop and admire the view Always got to have something new
The human brain's an intelligent fool Build you a hospital, build you a school You wake up the very next day The progress train took it all away
The progress train can demolish your town Sells us heaven when we're hell-bound Hell-bound Fed by apathy, driven by greed Running at top speed
Going so fast You won't notice it till it's past It doesn't give a damn about yesterday And when you forget what it took away You'll know the progress train rolled right over you.
Juggernaut hurtling down the road You're not in control, you're part of the load Running the lights, won't slow down Get in its way and it'll run you down.
The progress train is on a one-way track It'll take you there, won't bring you back When you start singing "I'm all right, Jack!" All right Jack, all right Jack You'll know ..The progress train ran right over you
The girl in the red shoes had to dance The progress train has to advance Tables to turn, money to earn, Bridges to burn, we never learn
Got no destination, it'll go anywhere Can't stop even when it gets there Got no beginning, got no end Doesn't even care what's around the bend
Got to grow, got to change Build up, tear down, rearrange Got to be move on, dirty or clean It's an atom bomb, it's a washing machine
It's a love song ................. it sings Seducing you ........ with things That ease your heart and please your mind The passengers sleep and the driver's blind
FIRE IN HIS PANTS HE DON'T DANCE NO ROMANCE THEY WANT YOU NOW THEY WANT YOU NOW AND THEY’LL HAVE YOU NOW! THAT'S THE PROGRESS TRAIN .... AND IT'S RIGHT OVER YOU
The human race has a fatal knack Of going full speed down a cul-de-sac After running so fast and working hard There's a helluva mess in the back yard
The progress train sings sweet and low And every time you hear it you know Something's wrong .. still you tap your feet The words don't matter .. cause the tune's so sweet The progress train ... is singing to you.
They All Sang Bread and Roses (2.31) (S. Kahn)
Now don’t you think it crazy, this old world and all its ways. Whoever thought the sixties would be called the good old days? But like the Weavers sang to us, “Wasn’t that a time?” When we raised our hands and voices on the line.
Chorus: And we all sang Bread and Roses Joe Hill and Union Maid We linked our arms and told each other We were not afraid Solidarity Forever would go rolling through the hall We shall overcome together one and all.
The more I study history the more I seem to find That in every generation there are times just like that time When folks like you and me who thought they were all alone Within this honoured movement found a home.
Chorus And they all sang Bread and Roses……
And though each generation fears that it may be the last Our presence here is witness to the power of the past And just as we have drawn our strength from those who now are gone Younger hands will take our work and carry on.
Chorus: And they’ll all sing Bread and Roses Joe Hill and Union Maid We’ll link our arms and tell each other We are not afraid Solidarity Forever will go rolling through the hall We shall overcome together one and all.
Babour Zammar (6.05) (The Ship Sounded its Horn)
Lyrics: ‘Amm El-Mawlidi Zleilah Music: El-Hédi Guella
The ship sounded its horn Sailing out to sea...
The ship sounded its horn... Sailing out to sea... Turning its back on home, the best place of all
The ship sounded its horn Ferrying men to their drowning
The ship sounded its horn Ferrying men to their drowning On their way to far-off lands, where the pain of exile burns like unquenched thirst
Turning its back on friends And companions
Families’ faces pale and yellow In sorrow and grief
The ship sounded its horn so loud
The ship sounded its horn so loud Sailing back home... Carrying men beloved of their people...
Hands trembling as they wave goodbye Hands trembling as they wave goodbye
Their loved ones’ tears Sting and burn their faces As their sons vanish over the horizon Their eyelids smarting with pain
The ship sounded its horn Heading out to sea
The ship sounded its horn Heading out to sea Sailing off to foreign lands Turning its back on bright skies
Uprooting young men from fertile lands
Uprooting young men from fertile lands To a life so harsh Just as the rain-soaked valley Fills up with tree trunks and branches
The ship sounded its horn, driven away from home
The ship sounded its horn, driven away from home With a bow so sharp Slicing through the foaming waves Like a knife through cheese
Spouting coffins into the blue sea Making ships quake in fear... As the sea surges backwards and forwards
The ship sailed into the mist
The ship sailed into the mist Shrouded in fog Packed to the gunnels with the best of all men
Offered up to foreign lands Without respite, like mules
The only difference between them and the cattle on board Is the passport... the passport... the passport
Translated by: Reem Kelani & Chris Somes-Charlton Tunisian dialect consultant: Dr. Emna Rmili, Sousse University, Tunisia Literary editor: Dr. Salma Khadra Jayyusi The Miktab © 2012
9 .St Peter's Fields (5.10) (J. Woodland) St Peter's Fields in Manchester On a day we need not name Soldiers waiting in the sunshine One by one the people came And the women were dressed in white Wearing leaves of laurel green St Peter's Fields in Manchester 1819... And you would think reform Was a baby that must be born And you would think democracy Would give us hopes of liberty But do you think that’s true And have you heard the news...
Phoebe Webber has been slaughtered On the fields of Peterloo And the red upon the green grass Sparkles like the morning dew. May the tears flow down like water And wash the bloodstains from you. Phoebe Webber has been slaughtered On the fields of Peterloo...
Somebody tell me how it happened I know even less than you. Their swords were out and sharpened A hundred thousand pushing through. We were standing in the front line Still I can't believe it's true. I saw her eyes and then she saw mine. She was dead before she knew...
Phoebe Webber has been slaughtered On the fields of Peterloo And the red upon the green grass Sparkles like the morning dew. May the tears flow down like water And wash the bloodstains from you. Phoebe Webber has been slaughtered On the fields of Peterloo...
And when you wake up in the morning Just thank the star that shines on you That the likes of Phoebe Webber Always do the things they do. From the bloody streets of Moscow To the ghettos of the U.S.A. From the haunted squares of China To the graveyards of the Cape From Tunisia’s Bouazizi To resistance in Bil’in From Tahrir Square in Egypt To Manama in Bahrain She will die again tomorrow As she died yesterday She will die until the sorrow And the chains are swept away. Now the green leaves of the laurel Turn a red and deadly hue Phoebe Webber has been slaughtered On a street not far from you. (Added lyrics about Arab spring with help from the company, and with the permission of Jim Woodland. Thanks especially to Reem Kelani and Chris Somes-Charlton).
Emily Davison (5.01) (S. Kerr) I went down to St. Mary’s churchyard In Morpeth one September day To find the grave of my dead sister To find the place where Emily lay. A dark and stony path led where she rested The sky was grey and the rain came down I found her monument decayed and broken And choking weeds grew all around.
Chorus: Emily Davison, suffragette heroine, Died at the Derby in 1913 Blood on the banner bright Purple and green and white Shed for a woman’s right To Liberty.
I knew no more of her brave story Than grains of history will allow But may her life be well-remembered Although in death, she’s forgotten now. She loved great London city, it inspired her To fight its poverty and shame But with each battle fought, she sought a refuge And to Northumberland she came..... They called her wild, a lawless lassie When deep in prison she was confined For tyrants paid no heed to reason And only deeds would change their minds. They say she learnt this lesson from her Bible Her courage from St Joan so brave And she believed no land could have its freedom While womankind was still the slave.....
A soldier dies for king and country And so Britannia rules the waves They sing his praises, call him hero Lay stones and flowers on his grave. Was not her sacrifice supreme and selfless? So we shall keep her memory. With love restored this grave in Morpeth churchyard, Is the honour due to Emily.....
11. The Grapes of Wrath (5.01) (J. Woodland) In the south is a castle high upon a hill Gazing down upon the world below In the north is a country laid low. In the country the hurt and anger grows. In the castle the milk and honey flows. But as they sit round their great oak tables Will they sip their wine and laugh? Oh no no! They will taste the grapes of wrath.
The north is a garden, a flower in the dirt And the castle is a burden and a curse. Squeezing out the vintage till it hurts. They are the Lords and Ladies of the universe. But as they sit round their great oak tables Will they sip their wine and laugh? Oh no no! They will taste the grapes of wrath. When the sun is on the castle, it shines like gold And the greedy in the castle feast their eyes. They are stealing all the sunlight from the skies. While the North is waiting for the Moon to rise.
In the shadow of the castle the country groans Dreaming in the darkness where she lies. But as thunder rolls across a Northern sky Behind a northern hill the moon begins to rise Now as they sit round their great oak tables Will they sip their wine and laugh? Oh no no! They will taste the grapes of wrath.
As the moon shines down across the northern land One day the north will rise up at her command. Then as they sit round their great oak tables Will they sip their wine and laugh? Oh no no! They will taste the grapes of wrath
12. Peacock Street (1.44) (Aunt Molly Jackson) As I was a-walking down Peacock Street No clothes on my back, no shoes on my feet. I was cold, I was hungry, it was late in the fall I knocked down some old big shot, took his money, clothes and all.
Yeah, I took everything that old big shot had And they called me a robber, they called me bad. They called me a robber, they called me bad But misery and starvation done drove me mad.
CHORUS Tell me how long must I look for a job? I don’t want to have to steal, I don’t want to have to rob.
They put me in jail for a year and a day For taking all that ol’ big shot’s money and clothes away. They turned me loose ‘bout a hour ago To walk these ol’ streets again in the rain and snow. I got no money for room rent, I got nothing to eat You just can’t live by walking the street. (CHORUS)
13. I'm Going Where the Suits Will Shine My Shoes (6.21) (L.Rosselson) With his bottle of wine and his tatty old sheet He guarded his patch down on Union Street With his cardboard sign which said ‘Thou shalt not kill’ And the song that he sang - I remember it still .....
I’m going where the suits will shine my shoes Going where the fountains foam with booze Going where the bankers beg for bread To find a home to rest my head Take me where the lazy rivers flow Take me where the lotus flowers grow Lay me down beside the silver sea And let the waves wash over me - wash over me.
She was trapped in the checkout bored out of her brain Checking the barcodes again and again She suddenly screamed ‘This is driving me mad’ Then she sang in a voice she didn’t know that she had.....
In the badlands of Helmand a Royal Marine Sick to the heart at the things he has seen Knowing this war can never be won Sings to himself as he lays down his gun.....
This song wasn’t sung by celebrity stars It was sung by the riffraff in back streets and bars The lonely and lost, those who didn’t belong The jobless and jailed they were singing this song.....
They’ll come from out of the dark and from out of despair Like a surge of the sea into Liberty Square And the man wtih the sign that says ‘Thou shalt not kill’ Will be leading them all and they’ll be singing it still.....
14. Why Not? (4.09) (R. Johnson) Oh dear oh dear the banks lost all their money So the government gave them ours to lose as well Now they say “we’re all in this together” The rent’s due and there’s nothing left to sell. We’ll all have to work harder and get less Is there an alternative? I say yes –
Make the rich pay, why not? Make the rich pay, why not? We don’t have any money cos they’ve got lots and lots Make the rich pay, why not?
It’s funny how the rich keep getting richer, It’s funny how the money’s all been lost, You wonder where it went to at the checkout When you find out just how much more things now cost. When the ask you “how’d you like to pay, Cash or credit card?” Here’s what I say:
Make the rich pay, why not?...
When I’m strolling down the London Road There’s this Oxfam where I sometimes likes to go There’s clothes that only cost a quid or two and it goes to those less fortunate than you. But when it comes to global poverty There’s only one solution, you’ll agree:
Make the rich pay, why not?...
They say Money is the root of all that evil and an apple’s why we’re in the state we’re in, Some people think we’re waiting for The Rapture When Jesus comes for payback on our sins On judgement day my conscience will be clear, I’ll hear the angels singing loud and clear:
Make the rich pay, why not?
15. To My Countrymen/Proletarian Lullaby (3.30) (Brecht/Eisler. Translation Alasdair Clayre)
You who live on in towns that passed away Now show yourselves some mercy I implore Do not go marching to some new war As if the old wars had not had there day But show yourselves some mercy I implore
You men reach for the spade and not the knife You'd have a roof right now above your head If you had taken up the spade instead And with a roof one has a better life. You men reach for the spade and not the knife.
You children that you may all remain alive Your fathers and your mothers you must waken And if in ruins you would not survive Telll them you will not take what they have taken You children that you may all remain alive.
You mothers - since the word is yours to give To stand for war or not to stand for war I beg you let your children live Let birth not death be what they thank you for I beg you mothers let your children live. -------- My son whatever you do or you try to do There's lines of them waiting with truncheons steady There's only one bit of space on this earth for you That's the rubbish dump and it's occupied already.
My son you must listen to your mother when she tells you It's worse than the plague this life you've got in store. Do you think I brought you into the world so painfully To have you lie down under it and meekly ask for more?
What you don't have, don't ever abandon What they don't give you take yourself and keep I, your mother, haven't born and fed you To see you crawl one night under a railway arch to sleep.
I don't say you're made of anything special I can't give you money or kneel by you and pray But I hope, and I've nothing but you to build on, You won't let the dole queue slowly gnaw your life away.
When in the night I lie and stare unsleeping I often reach out for your hand How can I make you see through their lying? I know you've been numbered for wars they've already planned.
Your mother my son has never pretended That you're the special son of someone's special daughter But neither did she bring you up in so much hardship To hang on the barbed wire some day crying out for water.
And so, my son, you must stay with your own kind So power like the dust can spread to every place And you, my son, and I and all our people Must stand together to unite the human race That unequal classes no more Will divide the human race.
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CD and Lyrics |
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The Anticapitalist Roadshow |
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Celebrating Subversion |