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Something About England

In honour of that wonderful tradition of an England loss in a major tournament I am pleased to share with you the lyrics of "SOMETHING ABOUT ENGLAND" Written by Joe Strummer and Mick Jones and Performed by The Clash https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHupeh7dFkE

We may be out of the World Cup but we did at least invent Punk:

They say immigrants steal the hubcaps Of the respected gentlemen They say it would be wine an' roses If England were for Englishmen again

Well I saw a dirty overcoat At the foot of the pillar of the road Propped inside was an old man Whom time would not erode When the night was snapped by sirens Those blue lights circled fast The dance hall called for an' ambulance The bars all closed up fast

My silence gazing at the ceiling While roaming the single room I thought the old man could help me If he could explain the gloom You really think it's all new You really think about it too The old man scoffed as he spoke to me I'll tell you a thing or two

I missed the fourteen-eighteen war But not the sorrow afterwards With my father dead and my mother ran off My brothers took the pay of hoods The twenties turned the north was dead The hunger strike came marching south At the garden party not a word was said The ladies lifted cake to their mouths

The next war began and my ship sailed With battle orders writ in bed In five long years of bullets and shells We left ten million dead The few returned to old Piccadilly We limped around Lester Square The world was busy rebuilding itself The architects could not care

But how could we know when I was young All the changes that were to come? All the photos in the wallets on the battlefield And now the terror of the scientific sun There was masters an' servants an' servants an' dogs They taught you how to touch your cap But through strikes an' famine an' war an' peace England never closed this gap

So leave me now the moon is up But remember all the tales I tell The memories that you have dredged up Are on letters forwarded from hell

The streets were by now deserted The gangs had trudged off home The lights clicked off in the bedsits An' old England was all alone

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