Red Wedding


Bluecoat Boy

'Down the glen came Lucking's men, dressed as Bengal lancers
One in ten were removal men, but the rest were fucking chancers.'

Listen to my story now listen while I sing
Of iron and coal of Libyan gold of spite and suffering
In days of old when Arthur still was king

Some of us had money some of us had none
Some read Pride And Prejudice some preferred The Sun
Some of us thought that the hurling-time had come

Down on the street the marching feet
Were drowning out the distant beat of drums
I sometimes wish tomorrow would never come
But I remember when gentlemen
Like Thorpe and Heath and Wilson fought before
But no one's pulling punches anymore
With only seven days to go the national poll
Said everything is roses so it seems
We were even drafting speeches for the Queen

When pounding down the glen
With drums on fire the bluecoat banners send
Mr Major's mad battalions once again to number ten
They're all good faithful party men
No regrets make no amends
There were no March Violets marching there and then
How many aces up his sleeve
How many did that ballot box receive
This time there's no reprieve
Well what did you believe

Time is money time will pass the die are cast
Alice wanders through the looking-glass to see
How the floating voters liked their new MP
Arthur Scargill smelt a rat when the Cheshire Cat
Came smiling down upon him from his tree
Hey how'd you like to change the course of history
Lady Astor says Amen Tony Benn
Cries Polly put the kettle on for tea
Walking back to the pavilion on his knees

This time we thought we had them on the run
And though it's goodbye General Patten
Our MacArthur's jumped the gun

In all one hundred thousand silver mugs engraved
From the boys in the band to the also-rans of the bloody red brigades
What a bloody big mess our bloodied noses made