| They closed up the sooty gates of Ayres and Company
|
| We stood on the picket line, my Jennifer and me We blocked the street, now the lorries come and turn about
|
| There’s nothing getting in there and there’s nothing getting out
|
| Oh, she’s just a tender thing
|
| She’s risking life and limb
|
| My sweetheart’s on the barricade
|
| My heart it skips a beat
|
| There’ll be fighting in the street
|
| But hungry folk forget to be afraid
|
| My sweetheart’s on the barricade
|
| And here come the managers to hit us on the sly
|
| And tinpot generals with glory in their eyes
|
| Owners, moaners, Judases and Janes
|
| But righteousness is in our eyes, we’ve got no time for games
|
| In her manner she is mild
|
| And fairly just a child
|
| My sweetheart’s on the barricade
|
| For a fair wage in her hand
|
| The equal of a man
|
| She’ll stand front rank in the parade
|
| My sweetheart’s on the barricade
|
| She’s running leaflets through the alley
|
| She’s passing hymn books at the rally
|
| Halleluiah!
|
| Friends and neighbours, won’t you join the cause
|
| Drill it in the tiny minds of them that make the laws
|
| That workers are human, we’re really just the same
|
| We’ve got to have the nourishment to fill a human frame
|
| Oh, we’re people not a mob
|
| And we only wants a job
|
| My sweetheart’s on the barricade
|
| We’ve had it up to here
|
| Too numb to feel the fear
|
| My sweetheart’s on the barricade
|
| My heart it skips a beat
|
| There’ll be fighting in the street
|
| My sweetheart’s on the barricade |