FATHER'S WRONG


Come here little girl, Daddy wants to hold you
Come here little girl, Daddy feels warm
I just want to show you that I'm nice
I just want to show you that I'm kind
I want you to know that I'm yours
And I want to know that you're mine
Come here little boy, Daddy wants to hold you
Come here little boy, Daddy feels good
I just want to fill you with my warmth
I want you to feel like more than a son
I want you to know
I love you as much as your mum
But if you think it's wrong, don't tell any other
Or I'll have to hurt you and I'll hurt your mother
And I could hurt you so much more
Than any pain you've ever felt before
Come here little child, I don't want to beat you
Come here little child, before I get mad
You think it's wrong to touch you this way
You think that it's bad
But if you think it's wrong, don't tell any other
Or I'll have to hurt you and I'll hurt your mother
And I could hurt you so much more
Than any pain you've ever felt before
Well I'm not alone and neither are you
There's plenty more fathers who do what I do
But if you think it's wrong, don't tell any other
Or I'll have to hurt you and I'll hurt your mother
And I could hurt you so much more
Than any pain you've ever felt before

GHOSTS OF CABLE STREET


England, 1936.
The grip of the Sabbath day
In London town the only sound
Is a whisper in an alleyway
Men put on their gloves and boots
Have a smoke before they go
From the west there is a warning of
A wind about to blow

Like Caesar marching to the East
Marches Mosley with his men
Dressed in their clothes of deepest black
Like a gathering hurricane
This is the British Union
With its flag of black and red
A flag that casts a shadow in
Berlin and in Madrid

So 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

So mile by mile they come on down
To a place called Cable Street
And other men are waiting there
Preparations are complete
Mosley comes so close
They now can see his outstretched arm
A hand raised up that way
Never took the future in its palm

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

The battle broke as the fists and the batons fell
Through the barricades came the sound of the wounded
yells
Jack Spot burst through with a chair leg made of lead
Brought down a crashing blow on Mosley's head

And so we learn from history generations have to fight
And those who crave for mastery
Must be faced down on sight
And if that means by words, by fists
By stones or by the gun
Remember those who stood up for
Their daughters and their sons

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

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

GOING BACK TO COVENTRY


We hit this town last summer
On the inter-city train
Me and Joe came down together
Just like we'd always been
Well I could play the guitar
And Joey had the brains
There was nothing left of Coventry
But a black and bloody stain

We walked up through Victoria
Named after the Empire's Queen
Signed on down in Westminster,
Found digs in Kennington Lane
The first night we went out
We both got drunk and made a noise
Ran back across the Vauxhall bridge
Chased by the Chelsea boys

Next day we got up early
Just before the London rain
Joey had a meeting with a man
They called John Wayne
He offered Joe a job,
No questions asked, cash in hand
Putting up an office block
On an empty patch of land

Tracks like a rainbow heading south
Takes me to a place I've dreamt about

While Joey screwed the social,
I would practice my guitar
And I took a few auditions playing
'Whiskey in the Jar'
Now I'm a one man band
And Joey he's my manager
And he tells me one day soon
He's going to make us into stars

So now we're both out working
On the tourists in the street
And we spend our nights in Soho
Like two moths drawn to the heat
We've got the rhythm of the river
And the rushing of the drains
It's like going back to Coventry
On that inter-city train

Tracks like a rainbow heading south
Takes me to a place I've dreamed about

GOLD RUSH


Working on a pipeline
Through the guts of a Northern sea
Someone struck the blackstuff
And it could have just been me
I signed on to an oil rig
For a pioneers wage
Fishing for our fortune
And pumping up the guage

But the North Sea winds are bitter
And the daylight hours are cruel
Still we keep the big drill pumping
Out the barrel loads of fuel

Mary and the children
Are living down in Leeds
The weekly cheque I send them
takes care of all their needs
Still I dream of other women
On this island made of men
Each week the chopper takes us
Down to Maria's den

But the North Sea winds are bitter
And the sky is painted grey
And the waves they come in bigger
And the strong men start to pray

My brother sometimes writes me
He's living still at home
How he could never be this way
Could never bear to roam
But I believe in fortune
And the gold of the frontier
I believe in miracles
And I am staying here

HOMEFIRES


Travel south from the hills
Lying covered all in fern
With wild heather down in the glen
There's a field being burned, soil being turned
Ready for the seed time again

North East South Westward ho
Fires on horizons grow
Seasons turn, bonfires burn
Everywhere the embers blow, everywhere the embers
blow...

On November the Fifth people gather on the heath
Point their Roman candles at the sky
From a broken branch and leaf they construct a fiery
wreath
Ready for the burning of the Guy

North East South Westward ho
Fires on horizons grow
Seasons turn, bonfires burn
Everywhere the embers blow, everywhere the embers
blow...

Half a million homes make the ruined city glow
The light in every window burns the same
Half a million fires put together makes a pyre
Chimney smoke turns into chimney flame

North East South Westward ho
Fires on horizons grow
Seasons tum, bonfires burn
Everywhere the embers blow, everywhere the embers
blow...
Everywhere the embers blow, everywhere the embers
blow...

IRONMASTERS


Oh this is an old story that's rarely ever told
the raping of the country, of the valley
the men who came to reap with a musket and a bible
they wanted to take the valley
the valley! the valley!
they wanted to take the valley
and oh the ironmasters, they always get their way

and so far a pittance all the people worked the land
all the men and the women and the children
and on sundays it was down to the chapel in the town
the preacher said give generously!
give generously! give generously!
the people they gave generously
and oh the ironmasters, they always get their way

the union met in secret on the dark side of the hill
by the light of a thousand candles
their pay had been cut, all the people come on out
and by scores they were joining Rebecca
Rebecca! Rebecca!
the people were joining Rebecca
and oh the ironmasters, they always get their way

riot!

ironmaster, call the army
call the hungry from the irish sea
ironmaster, call the parliament
it's no sin to fight to be free!

from the smokey stacks of merthyr
to the hills of Ebbw vale
from Swansea docks to Merseyside and Liverpool
with the union leaders crushed
and the union quickly smashed
they blackend the face of the country
the country! the country!
they blackend the face of the country
and oh the ironmasters, they always get their way

now on a hill in Brecon is Crawshay's ruined house
and it blackens out the green of the valley
and on the battered grave is the epitaph they gave
it stands there, god forgive him!
forgive him! forgive him!
and all who rot in hell with him
and oh the ironmasters, they always get their way

riot!

ironmaster, call the army
call the hungry from the irish sea
ironmaster, call the parliament
it's no sin to fight to be free!

and oh the ironmasters, they always get their way
and oh the ironmasters, they still get their way!

ISLAND IN THE RAIN


I'll take a journey through the town to dock gate one
And there I'll take a ferry boat
That ferry sails across the Solent waters deep
To an island like a castle with a moat
I'll leave the empty shores of Hythe and Netley Bay
The smoke of Fawley soon will fade
And I'll be bound where something undecided waits
A memory or a useless masquerade
Back to the island in the rain
Before the season or the weather's change
I'm searching for the ghosts that haunt this island view
One looks like me one has the face of you
I'll go to bars we used to go to every day
To Tennyson's statue carved in stone
It's stayed the same throughout the passing of the years
But we were made of faithless flesh and bone
This time of year it rains on every empty beach
This time of year the summer souvenirs are gone
No slot machines, candy floss or novelties
Like love affairs picked up and lost along the prom
There's only lovers walking in the rain
The way we did before another sea-son came
Ghosts, shadows, spirits of a dream
Or just players in a scene?

JACK DANDY


Winter nineteen eighty one down at the station
Sleeping bag and sixty three pounds heading for
Waterloo station
Last night I shook my fathers hand told him I was
leaving
But as the train goes past the docks my heart stays
unbelieving

Sometimes I wish I was rich
Sometimes I wish that I was dead
Sometimes I wish that I was back on the train
Sometimes I wish that I was home again

But I'm strutting with the cats
Running with the dogs
Drinking down the poison to the bottom of the dregs
Looking for the secret of the little white bags

Sometimes I wish I was rich
Sometimes I wish that I was dead
Sometimes I wish that I was back on the train
Sometimes I wish that I was home again

But I'm strutting with the cats
Running with the dogs
Drinking down the poison to the bottom of the dregs
Looking for the secret of the little white bags

All the friends I left behind die slowly on the dole
The factory on the big estate has swallowed my best
friend whole
Now I'm living in a Hammersmith squat watching an old
TV
On the screen the days go by and never stop for me

Sometimes I wish I was rich
Sometimes I wish that I was dead
Sometimes I wish that I was back on the train
Sometimes I wish that I was home again

But I'm strutting with the cats
Running with the dogs
Drinking down the poison to the bottom of the dregs
Looking for the secret of the little white bags

LIFE OF A SMALL FRY


A wretched party stood and prayed
Under the lashing rain and thunder
The ropes fell through the handles, the coffin sloping under
The earth slipped through black fingers
At the graveside where she stooped
And an ill wind howling through her veil
For a man who served no good, he served no good
He never was an evil man, hard but fair, his mother said
A timid youth of ridicule, each schoolday made him quake with dread
In the showers and the rugby field, the bullies came to play
Most nights he'd weep and piss the bed
But he vowed they all would pay, they all would pay!
Like his father in the coldstream guards, he was soon in married quarters
Licked his way up through the ranks, he had no time for sons and daughters
She waits on him, the sweet young thing
Repenting at her leisure
Like a blinkered mount he charges on
How much longer is her tether
How how she laughed, while so lovingly she spurned him
For time had stole ungraciously all the dreams she'd been yearning
No joyous cries of children, is this marriage granite firm
It breaks his heart that seeds can't grow, from a bag of watered sperm
He joined the prison service, she broke the chains and left him
For the first time he was all alone, a demon's soul possessed him
An institute of misery, in a painful sea of darkness
And from inside his tortured mind, cruel, bleak and heartless
An angry mob was breaking out from the chokey cells and 'D' wing
Tonight the hard lags call me tune, come the dawn, no birds will sing
No more raining down the stick, a violent end draws nigh
No hope, no tears, no mercy, for the life of this small fry!

MARY'S PRESENT


Mary got a present from an old friend
It had been forwarded and forwarded again
It didn't come through the post, wasn't brought to her door
This delivery was so much more
Mary, Mary what's happened to you
What's happened to the girl we all knew
Has that old flame burnt you at last
Your future's been stolen by the past
It came later than expected, no surprise
Mary accepted with closed eyes
The wrapper had to be opened with a knife
Mary got a gift, it changed her life
Mary, Mary what's happened to you
What's happened to the girl we all knew
Has that old flame burnt you at last
Your future's been stolen by the past
Now she sits in and watches all the soaps
Reads romantic novels and vainly hopes
Mary remembers better days than this
And a time before fates bitter kiss
Mary wanted love, she needed truth
But it broke her heart and stole away her youth
Now her life will never be, never be the same again
But you won't hear Mary complain
Mary, Mary what's happened to you
What's happened to the girl we all knew
Has that fire burnt out at last
Your future's been stolen by the past