Lyrics:
Words and music by roddy frameJock's got a vote in parochiaTen long years and he's still got herPaying tax and and doing stirWorry about it later.And the wind blows hot and the wind blows coldBut it blows us good so we've been toldMusic's food 'til the art-biz foldsLet them all eat culture.Chorus:The past is steeped in shame,But tomorrow's fair game,For a life that's fit for livingGood morning britain.Twenty years and a loaded gunFunerals, fear and the war ain't wonPaddy's just a figure of funIt lightens up the danger.And a corporal sneers at a catholic boyAnd he eyes his gun like a rich man's toyHe's killing more than celtic joyDeath is not a stranger.Taffy's time's gonna come one dayIt's a loud sweet voice and it won't give wayA house is not a holidayYour sons are leaving home neil.In the hills and the valleys and far awayYou can hear the song of democracyThe echo of eternityWith a rak-a-rak-a feel.ChorusFrom the tyne to where to the thames does flowMy english brothers and sisters knowIt's not a case of where you goIt's race and creed and colour.From the police cell to the deep dark graveOn the underground's just a stop awayDon't be too black, don't be too gayJust get a little duller.But in this green and pleasant land,Where I make my home, I make my standMake it cool just to be a man,A uniform's a traitor.Love is internationalAnd if you stand or if you fall,Just let them know you gave your all,Worry about it later.Chorus