nunoncastors

Jock’s got a vote in parochia,
Ten long years and he’s still got her,
Paying tax and doing stir,
Worry about it later.
And the wind blows hot and the wind blows cold,
But it blows us good so we’ve been told,
Music’s food ‘til the art-biz folds,
Let them all eat culture.

The past is steeped in shame,
But tomorrow’s fair game,
For a life that’s fit for living
Good morning Britain.

Twenty years and a loaded gun,
Funerals, fear and the war ain’t won,
Paddy’s still a figure of fun,
It lightens up the danger.
Corporal sneers at a catholic boy,
And he eyes his gun like a rich man’s toy,
He’s killing more than Celtic joy
Death is not a stranger.

Taffy’s times gonna’ come one day,
It’s a loud sweet voice and it won’t give way
A house is not a holiday,
Your sons are leaving home Neil.
In the hills and the valleys and far away,
You can hear the song of democracy,
The echo of eternity,
With a rak-a-rak-a-feel.

The past is steeped in shame,
But tomorrow’s fair game,
For a life that’s fit for living
Good morning Britain.

From the Tyne to where to the Thames does flow,
My English brothers and sisters know,
It’s not a case of where you go,
It’s race and creed and colour.
From the Police cell to the deep dark grave,
On the undergrounds, just a stop away,
Don’t be too black, don’t be too gay,
Just get a little duller.

But in this green and pleasant land,
Where I make my home, I’ll make my stand
Make it cool just to be a man,
A uniform’s a traitor.
Love is international
And if you stand or if you fall,
Just let them know you gave your all,
Worry about it later.

The past is steeped in shame,
But tomorrow’s fair game,
For a life that’s fit for living
Good morning Britain.

<3 Mind you, what do they look like?