Some Poignant Protest Lyrics for St. Patrick's Day

[Guest]

Pretty close to St. Patrick's day, so I thought I'd run some lyrics by you.

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"Worker's Song"

Yeh, this one's for the workers who toil night and day
By hand and by brain to earn your pay
Who for centuries long past for no more than your bread
Have bled for your countries and counted your dead

In the factories and mills, in the shipyards and mines
We've often been told to keep up with the times
For our skills are not needed, they've streamlined the job
And with sliderule and stopwatch our pride they have robbed

[Chorus:]
We're the first ones to starve, we're the first ones to die
The first ones in line for that pie-in-the-sky
And we're always the last when the cream is shared out
For the worker is working when the fat cat's about

And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war
Who's given a gun and then pushed to the fore
And expected to die for the land of our birth
Though we've never owned one lousy handful of earth?

[Chorus x3]

All of these things the worker has done
From tilling the fields to carrying the gun
We've been yoked to the plough since time first began
And always expected to carry the can

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"Between the Wars", by Billy Bragg

Billy's an unapologetic Communist, but I really like this song.

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I was a miner
I was a docker
I was a railway man
Between the wars
I raised a family
In times of austerity
With sweat at the foundry
Between the wars.

I paid the union and as times got harder
I looked to the government to help the working man
And they brought prosperity down at the armoury
We're arming for peace, me boys
Between the wars.

I kept the faith and I kept voting
Not for the iron fist but for the helping hand
For theirs is a land with a wall around it
And mine is a faith in my fellow man
Theirs is a land of hope and glory
Mine is the green field and the factory floor
Theirs are the skies all dark with bombers
And mine is the peace we knew
Between the wars.

Call up the craftsmen
Bring me the draftsmen
Build me a path from cradle to grave
And I'll give my consent
To any government
That does not deny a man a living wage.

Go find the young men never to fight again
Bring up the banners from the days gone by
Sweet moderation
Heart of this nation
Desert us not, we are
Between the wars.

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mh

"The mouse does not know life until it is in the mouth of the cat."

[craichead 0]

Quote

"Between the Wars", by Billy Bragg

Billy's an unapologetic Communist, but I really like this song.

Oh, I love Billy Bragg! The majority of his early songs are very politically-charged, but they're quite catchy. When I saw him in concert a few years back, he seemed to be a lot more mellow...and the way he dances is really goofy and embarrassing (because he's someone's dad, he says).

_Pm

__
"Scared of love, love and aeroplanes...falling out, I said takes no brains." -- Andy Partridge (XTC)

[billvon 3,131]

A few more protest songs from irish bands:

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"Drunken lullabies"

Tell me what savior rests, while on his cross we die
as forgotten freedom burns
Has the Sheperd led his lambs astray
to the bigot and the gun?

Must we take a life that hateful eyes might glisten once again?
Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess, singin' drunken lullabies

. . .

I sit in and dwell on faces past, all memories seem to fade
No color left but black and white - and soon will all turn grey
But may these shadows rise to walk again
With lessons truly learned
When the blossom flowers in each our hearts
Shall burn a new found flame

Must we take a life that hateful eyes might glisten once again?
Here we find ourselves in the same old mess, singin' drunken lullabies
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"Wailing wall"

Oh god how come every wrong's been done, with deals no Christ
should allow?
Once the communist, now the terrorist, both with blood as thick as
ours
Now a caravan of clouds warns us all of winter showers
Then a-rattle comes the rain, when each bullet screams your name

Oh how come this gathering storm pours so little on the truth?
Where the smoking gun's a familiar song echoes
With the bombed-out cars come the falling stars from a heaven
we'll never know
And the nameless names on the misspelled graves grow tall
We're still screaming at the Wailing Wall

[DrunkMonkey 0]

The Dropkick Murphys do a great cover of the Workers' Song.

[Antidote 0]

How 'bout Young Ned Of The Hill by the Pogues? Is that relevant? One of my favourite fighting songs.

Have you ever walked the lonesome hills
or heard the curlews cry
Or seen the raven black as night
Upon a windswept sky
To walk the purple heather
And hear the west wind cry
To know that's where the rapparee must die

Since Cromwell pushed us westward
To live our lowly lives
There's some of us have deemed to fight
From Tipperary mountains high
Noble men with wills of iron
Who are not afraid to die
Who'll fight with gaelic honour held on high

[Chorus]
A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell
You who raped our Motherland
I hope you're rotting down in hell
For the horrors that you sent
To our misfortunate forefathers
Whom you robbed of their birthright
"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight

Of one such man I'd like to speak
A rapparee by name and deed
His family dispossessed and slaughtered
They put a price upon his head
His name is know in song and story
His deeds are legends still
And murdered for blood money
Was young Ned of the hill

You have robbed our homes and fortunes
Even drove us from the land
You tried to break our spirit
But you'll never understand
The love of dear old Ireland
That will forge and iron will
As long as there are gallant men
Like young Ned of the hill

[Chorus]

[Skyrad 0]

wow, i never had you down as a Socialist.

When an author is too meticulous about his style, you may presume that his mind is frivolous and his content flimsy.
Lucius Annaeus Seneca

[Guest]

Quote

wow, i never had you down as a Socialist.

I'm not, but I don't like the way my country is headed, with this damned war, the over-dependence on petroleum from abroad (supplied by despotic regimes), the deficit, and the exporting/outsourcing of jobs and the massive importing of cheap foreign labor.

There's plenty to protest about.

mh

.

"The mouse does not know life until it is in the mouth of the cat."