The Hunt
We went into town on the Tuesday night
Searching all the places that you hang about we're looking for you
In the back street cellar dive drinking clubs
In the discotheques and the gaming pubs we're looking for you
You will pay the price for my own sweet brother and what he has become
And a hundred other boys and girls and all that you have done
We picked up the trail at the Seven Crowns
One of your cronies, he was doing your rounds we followed him
Just a silhouette figure up Market Pass
Where the headlamps shine on the broken glass we followed him
Over the bridge by the old canal where the shadows dance on the lighted wall
He stopped to light up a cigarette and we dived into a doorway
No police, no summons, no courts of law no proper procedure, no rules of war
No mitigating circumstance no lawyers fees, no second chance
There are lasses getting trouble on their own home beat
There are old folk battered in the open street in this city of hours
There are eyes that see but say nothing at all
There are ears that hear but they don't recall in this city of hours
So we followed your man back to your front door and we're waiting for you outside
Because not everybody here is scared of you not everybody passes on the other side
No police, no summons, no courts of law no proper procedure, no rules of war
No mitigating circumstance no lawyers fees, no second chance
And we could spend our whole lives waiting for some thunderbolt to come
And we could spend our whole lives waiting for some justice to be done unless we make our own
No police, no summons, no courts of law no proper procedure, no rules of war
No mitigating circumstance no lawyers fees, no second chance
51st State
Look out of your windows, watch the skies
Read all the instructions with bright blue eyes
We're W.A.S.Ps, proud American sons
We know how to clean our teeth and how to strip down a gun
We're the 51st state of America
Our star-spangled Union Jack flutters so proud
Over the dancing heads of the merry patriotic crowd
Tip your hat to the Yankee conqueror
We've got no reds under the bed with guns under our pillows
We're the 51st state of America
Here in the land of opportunity, watch us revel in our liberty
You can say what you like but it doesn't change anything
Because the corridors of power are an ocean away
We're the 51st state of America
Between Dog And Wolf
Late afternoon in winter time on the edge of the city
The incinerator towers are breathing out into the cold
The birds are making spirals high above the neon skyline
Across the drifting swirl of charcoal and gold
Islands in silver seas as the land falls into shadow
These are more real for me than all that I leave behind
And if I could only choose one moment to last forever
I would be here with you between dog and wolf
Between water and wine between wine and blood
From the black and icy river’s edge to the resurrection garden
We were in the arms of something that was unfolding
I close my eyes and see wild horses coming from the sky
Narcotic dreams and miracles descending
Silence my silver tongue and meet me somewhere deeper
Everything’s how it feels is what you were trying to say
And if I could only choose one moment to last forever
I would be here with you in the place between dog and wolf
Where the breath is sweeter and the lights are diamond
Where the blood runs faster and the taste is stronger
And the night uncoils moving around us
Come, take what you want in the place between dog and wolf
Between water and wine between wine and blood
New Model Army
I was less than seventeen when I left the farm
Marching out with the village men to join the men at arms
We trained in pike and musket work and learned the Bible creed
And marched out to meet the King to end that tyranny
We’re gonna fight, we’re gonna die
Put your faith in God, keep your powder dry
We’re gonna fight, we’re gonna die
Remember what you’re fighting for keep the fire in your eyes
My brother fell at Naseby field when the war was almost won
We buried him in a shallow grave and I cried when it was done
But they told us we were Cromwell’s men and held our banners high
We were fighting for our liberty, fighting for our rights
The smoke cleared into the summer skies, the blood drained to the land
The King broke all his promises, stained his guilty hands
On a cold and shiny winter’s day, we put the man to death
While Cromwell planned his Commonwealth as England held its breath
We waited in our summer camps, singing round the fires
Talking of our victories and the land that was ours
But Cromwell’s generals turned on us, put out the fires they’d fanned
We’ve got no part in their Brave New World because we own no land
No Man's Land
You say that you'd rather be really poor
Than scratching, saving, scrimping all the pennies
Looking in the windows at what you can't afford
Always hungry, never starving in no man's land the days are long
You say that you'd rather be really ill
Than just having headaches, never have no energy
All the little allergies and all the little pains
Never getting better, never getting worse in no man's land the days are long
You say that you'd rather have no love at all
Than pathetic little words, half-hearted kisses
Never feeling anything, anything at all
Never no fire, never no passion in no man's land the days are long
Do you believe you can come out, fighting from you shell-hole
Or do you run for cover every time you hear a shot fired in anger?
Rumour & Rapture (1650)
We waited in our summer camps, we waited all summer long
To be paid for the bloody work we had done
I fought with Freeborn John, I fought with General Ireton the best of men in the worst of times
I have honours to my name, I have served my God and not that fool of a king
But when I close my eyes to dream I see pikes against the sky I hear dying men and horses scream
And no one tells us what is happening
No one seems to know what is happening
Through those November rains, we were on the march again
To Putney with our elected men and in the Church the leaders talked
And outside we stamped our feet against the cold and dared to hope
News from home comes slow and it is never good the harvest poor and too few to gather
We were sent to hang two men caught stealing food by a frozen river
And no one ever tells us what is happening
No one seems to know what's happening
They say in London town the streets are alive with talk
The Assembly of Saints to be taken down
I say let them rot in Hell it will be God's will to see a land that is free
Everywhere there are prophets everywhere there are words
All rumours and rapture but I just long to go home, turn my face into the sun
And now I know Jerusalem
And no one ever tells us what is happening
No one seems to know what is happening
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