England, 1936.
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The grip of the Sabbath day
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In London town the only sound
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Is a whisper in an alleyway
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Men put on their gloves and boots
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Have a smoke before they go
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From the west there is a warning of
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A wind about to blow
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Like Caesar marching to the East
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Marches Mosley with his men
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Dressed in their clothes of deepest black
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Like a gathering hurricane
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This is the British Union
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With its flag of black and red
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A flag that casts a shadow in
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Berlin and in Madrid
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So listen to the sound of marching feet
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And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
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Fists and stones and batons and the gun
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With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down
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So mile by mile they come on down
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To a place called Cable Street
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And other men are waiting there
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Preparations are complete
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Mosley comes so close
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They now can see his outstretched arm
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A hand raised up that way
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Never took the future in its palm
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Listen to the sound of marching feet
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And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
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Fists and stones and batons and the gun
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With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down
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The battle broke as the fists and the batons fell
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Through the barricades came the sound of the wounded yells
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Jack Spot burst through with a chair leg made of lead
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Brought down a crashing blow on Mosley’s head
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And so we learn from history generations have to fight
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And those who crave for mastery
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Must be faced down on sight
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And if that means by words, by fists, by stones or by the gun
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Remember those who stood up for
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Their daughters and their sons
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Listen to the sound of marching feet
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And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
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Fists and stones and batons and the gun
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With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down
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Listen to the sound of marching feet
|
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
|
Fists and stones and batons and the gun
|
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down |