We march from a stricken country, From broken hill and vale,
Where factory yards are empty, And the rusty gear for sale.
Our country will not thrive again, Our strength is not for use,
The bubble of prosperity Has never come to us.
Then rouse to our tread When you hear us marching by;’
For servility is dead And the Means Test too shall die!
Though they think our spirit’s broken, Because we’re underfed,
We will stamp the Starvation Government Beneath the workers’ tread,
Stamp, stamp, stamp, stamp
We will stamp the Starvation Government Beneath the workers’ tread.
We pass through sleeping villagesAnd poor and struggling farms,
We pass through towns where fact’ries Are forging war and arms.
In towns and fields and villages We see it more and more,
How the boss exploits the worker And drives him into war.
And this Employers’ Government, Is hoping for the best,
To set one against another By the grading of the Test.
They would train us in their Labour Camps For action against you,
But we march for the working-class, For we are workers too.
Remember, fellow workers, Who earn a wage to-day,
That they’ll throw you on the scrapheap, When they find it doesn’t pay.
All you who are employed, Making cartridges and bombs,
We’ll be marching side by side, When the final crisis comes.
Where factory yards are empty, And the rusty gear for sale.
Our country will not thrive again, Our strength is not for use,
The bubble of prosperity Has never come to us.
Then rouse to our tread When you hear us marching by;’
For servility is dead And the Means Test too shall die!
Though they think our spirit’s broken, Because we’re underfed,
We will stamp the Starvation Government Beneath the workers’ tread,
Stamp, stamp, stamp, stamp
We will stamp the Starvation Government Beneath the workers’ tread.
We pass through sleeping villagesAnd poor and struggling farms,
We pass through towns where fact’ries Are forging war and arms.
In towns and fields and villages We see it more and more,
How the boss exploits the worker And drives him into war.
And this Employers’ Government, Is hoping for the best,
To set one against another By the grading of the Test.
They would train us in their Labour Camps For action against you,
But we march for the working-class, For we are workers too.
Remember, fellow workers, Who earn a wage to-day,
That they’ll throw you on the scrapheap, When they find it doesn’t pay.
All you who are employed, Making cartridges and bombs,
We’ll be marching side by side, When the final crisis comes.
inviata da Riccardo Venturi - 11/8/2007 - 19:23
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Music by Alan Bush
Testo di Randall Swingler
Musica di Alan Bush
Lyrics are reproduced from this cache page
Il testo è riprodotto da questa pagina cache