In eastern skies the great hawks fly
Over blood-ied hills where children die,
And the instruments of tyranny
Were brought from Britain plc
As the war machine rolls round
And the war machine rolls round and round
And the poor and the weak get trampled on the ground,
And from where we stand their cries are drowned
By the clink of the franc and the dollar and the pound
As the war machine rolls round.
And the pris’ner sleeping where he fell
Will awake to one more day of hell
From a US baton’s searing pain
His body bound by a Sheffield chain,
As the war machine rolls round
And the war machine rolls round and round
And the poor and the weak get trampled on the ground,
And from where we stand their cries are drowned
By the clink of the franc and the dollar and the pound
As the war machine rolls round.
We’ve an industry that lives and thrives
Making tools to shatter human lives
And our honest workers ply their skill
Helping distant tyrants maim and kill
As the war machine rolls round
And the war machine rolls round and round
And the poor and the weak get trampled on the ground,
And from where we stand their cries are drowned
By the clink of the franc and the dollar and the pound
As the war machine rolls round.
It is time, my friends, for us to say
We will not sell de-th to earn our pay
It is time for arms exports to cease
For the world can never live in peace
While the war ma-chine rolls round
And the war machine rolls round and round
And the poor and the weak get trampled on the ground,
And from where we stand their cries are drowned
By the clink of the franc and the dollar and the pound
As the war machine rolls round.
Over blood-ied hills where children die,
And the instruments of tyranny
Were brought from Britain plc
As the war machine rolls round
And the war machine rolls round and round
And the poor and the weak get trampled on the ground,
And from where we stand their cries are drowned
By the clink of the franc and the dollar and the pound
As the war machine rolls round.
And the pris’ner sleeping where he fell
Will awake to one more day of hell
From a US baton’s searing pain
His body bound by a Sheffield chain,
As the war machine rolls round
And the war machine rolls round and round
And the poor and the weak get trampled on the ground,
And from where we stand their cries are drowned
By the clink of the franc and the dollar and the pound
As the war machine rolls round.
We’ve an industry that lives and thrives
Making tools to shatter human lives
And our honest workers ply their skill
Helping distant tyrants maim and kill
As the war machine rolls round
And the war machine rolls round and round
And the poor and the weak get trampled on the ground,
And from where we stand their cries are drowned
By the clink of the franc and the dollar and the pound
As the war machine rolls round.
It is time, my friends, for us to say
We will not sell de-th to earn our pay
It is time for arms exports to cease
For the world can never live in peace
While the war ma-chine rolls round
And the war machine rolls round and round
And the poor and the weak get trampled on the ground,
And from where we stand their cries are drowned
By the clink of the franc and the dollar and the pound
As the war machine rolls round.
inviata da Riccardo Venturi - 24/4/2007 - 22:03
×
![]()
Lyrics are reproduced from the Repertory of the Strawberry Thieves Choir (downloadable .doc file)
"Sue is a singer-songwriter who has used music both inside and outside Churches to support the peace movement. She has recorded songs for the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship and the Movement for the Abolition of War".
(from this page)