FOR I KNEW NO BETTER
I came into the world, locked up in a death camp.
Imprisoned for years with the same people.
This was my life, my only existence.
I knew nothing else except death and decay.
How much more can we all take?
The world is alien to people and peace.
When will we all wake up from our sleeping?
We can’t just go on in the same old ways.
For years, I was confined with pain all around me.
For years, I saw and smelt nothing but death.
For years, I was stepping over decaying corpses.
The mutilated remains of historical past.
We all spent years killing and maiming,
making peoples’ lives such a great misery.
We all just took whatever we wanted,
making people suffer for our own selfish greed.
But all this suffering didn’t affect me.
It was my whole life, my only real world.
No other reality came into vision.
This was my only true view of the world.
For years, I was subjected to pain and distortions,
which I accepted as nothing but the norm.
I believed that suffering would always continue.
That death and decay could never be stopped.
But in the outside world, I saw a new vision.
The real world around me was different and new.
I can now see a new life, a bright new reality.
A different life in a different light.
You see, I accepted it just without question.
I couldn’t see anything but despair and loss.
I thought we were powerless and had no future.
I believed it all for I knew no better.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1981)
FUTILE DEATH OF TWO SENSIBLE SOLDIERS
A friend of mine was unemployed,
he didn’t know what to do.
So he went down to the Army office and
said “I want to join you”.
So they sent him off to war,
for something he didn’t know.
They put a gun in his hand and
said “shoot the ones across the road”.
So he squatted down in the mud,
with the shit, the bullets, the bodies and the blood.
Trying to think of the ones he loved.
Trying to ignore all the death and the pain.
Then he saw the enemy come up to him.
He got his gun and went over to them.
He looked him straight in the eyes,
“That’s the first mistake”, the Officers replied.
For he saw a young man about his age,
he said “You’re the enemy, I must shoot you dead!”.
The man said “Why?” and stood there still.
My friend was silent and thought a lot.
His mind went crazy, he couldn’t shoot.
He couldn’t see why the war was on.
Why was he fighting? What’s to be won?
Why shoot a man the same as him?
So he put his gun on the ground,
and the enemy did the same.
The Officers went up to them,
and shot them both in the brain and said
“They should have played the game”.
Then carried on the war,
like all those times before.
Safe in their bunkers,
with a gin and a straw!
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1986)
CONFINED IN THE MIND
I’m crouched in the same dark cold corner.
The empty damp corner of my cell.
The corner I’ve sat in for so long.
The corner I know so well.
Every chip in the paintwork.
Every damp patch on the floor.
I know this corner.
It’s the same as it was when I came before.
But it now seems I’m here forever.
There’s no getting out this time.
I’m going to sit in this same lonely corner,
till my spirit goes and I die.
The cold, the damp, the hunger pains.
The feeling of being alone.
The loneliness of waking up,
and seeing the walls you’ve seen for so long.
No one around, nothing to call your own.
The feeling and warmth of the sun shining through.
I jump up and down to try get a view.
But the hole is too high, I can’t even smell,
and nobody hears me if I yell.
But what’s the point of sitting here each day?
Time goes by - Boredom...Decay.
No one now thinks of me, nobody cares.
I might as well be dead or not even born.
The day I die, leave this hole,
will be my liberation away from it all.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1986)
WE’RE WALKING A TIGHTROPE
We’re walking a tightrope, between fact and fiction.
We’re walking that long thin line, living an illusion.
But things get so confused, so complicated.
Hiding what we feel, in public places.
Never admitting, that things will never be.
Dreaming of tomorrow is such a fantasy.
But where are you going to run to?
Where are you going to hide?
Who are you going to trust?
When you’re out there?
Who are you going to speak with?
Who are you going to tell?
Who are you going turn to?
When you’re out there?
But it’s just like a circus trick, never looking down.
Don’t look up, don’t look back, keep on going your own sweet way.
I’m here if you need me, maybe one day.
The circus may move, but the acts remain the same.
But where are you going to run to?
Where are you going to hide?
Who will you trust?
When you’re out there?
Who will you speak with?
Who will you tell?
Who will you turn to?
When you’re out there?
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1989)
TIMES CHANGE, MEMORIES REMAIN
I was seven, you were eight, sitting there upon the gate.
Watching all the trains go by, wondering what true love was like.
But we soon left school and went our separate ways.
You to college and me to the factory.
Wondering if we would meet again.
Would we be faithful?
Would we cheat?
Oh, I want to see you again.
Sitting on that old farm gate.
Playing all those school yard games.
Wondering what the future would bring.
We now haven’t seen each other for so many years.
I’ve heard you’ve got married and got everything you need.
The man you’ve married is a millionaire.
He’s helping you achieve your aim.
The world’s your oyster and every day is just a crazy game.
I see you on the TV screen and in the magazines.
You’re big in the music business, it was always one of your dreams.
You’ve had a hit or two and the public they are flocking to you.
Oh, I want to see you again.
Sitting on that old farm gate.
Playing all those school yard games.
Wondering what the future would bring.
When I heard you on the radio or saw you on the screen.
You didn’t seem like the girl I knew, the girl with all those dreams.
Your hits have now faded away, it looks like the bubble has burst.
Your fans are long gone now, gone to someone else.
I’ve just read in my daily paper, your death by pills in a seedy hotel,
somewhere away from it all, on your own, nobody with you.
You only had a very short life, but one which made its mark.
I will never forget our days, sitting on that old farm gate.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1989)
WAR BECOMES A HABIT
For centuries we have all been fighting wars.
Taking up arms and going off to fight.
Fight because we’re told to or because we think it’s right.
Taking up arms to fight the good fight.
War becomes a habit – If you let it.
So we all go out and kill all our foes.
We gun them down and pick over the bones.
We leave them for dead rolling about in pain.
And sing Christmas Carols when it’s over.
War became a habit – And we let it.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1980)
JUST AN ORDINARY WOMAN
She goes by the name of sexy Sue,
but in the morning she’s just like you.
But at night she has to walk the streets,
just to make those ends meet.
She’s a street girl.
Standing on the corner.
Waiting for a punter.
Waiting for some money.
To feed her kids.
She goes by the name of sexy Sam,
but she’s always had problems with her men.
Her father used to beat her up at night,
and the man she married left her out of sight.
She’s a street girl.
Standing on the corner.
Waiting for a punter.
Waiting for some money.
To feed her kids.
She goes by the name of delicious Denise,
but walking the street is no novelty.
Hounded by police in the dead of night,
hassled by drunks, oh what a life!
She’s a street girl.
Just an ordinary woman.
Making ends meet, in this land of unemployment.
She’s a street girl.
Doing the best for her children.
Not giving up under pressure.
Just trying to live.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1987)
DOWN SOUTH
You say you’re gonna run away,
to escape this industrial decay.
But where you gonna run to?
Is the south that attractive to you?
With unemployment and nowhere to live?
You say there’s nothing for you at home.
So get on your bike and wander alone.
To the bright lights and dirty streets.
But find somewhere to live.
It’s not all what it seems on the TV screens.
You wander all over town.
Just looking for somewhere to lay your head down.
Without a place to live, how can you get a job?
It’s a vicious circle in a lonely town called London.
So you say you’re gonna go down south.
That’s up to you but think what it’s about.
It’s not all it seems to be, there’s homelessness and poverty,
and the streets there aren’t paved with gold.
You say you’re gonna run away.
That’s up to you but is that the way?
It’s not all it seems to be, there’s homelessness and poverty,
and the streets there aren’t paved with gold.
You say you’re gonna run away.
That’s up to you but think what it’s about?
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1988)
WHERE WERE WE WHEN WE NEEDED EACH OTHER?
My father was a Miner in a pit in South Yorkshire.
It was closed by the NCB in the middle of last year.
But I didn’t give a damn, I was doing alright in my job –
I was a Printworker in Fleet Street,
I was glad I had my job.
But there’s now a printworks in Wapping –
Built by a Capitalist shit.
It’s been built on the backs of 6000 workers –
Thrown out onto the street.
But my Father’s now a worker there –
Driving for TNT.
He’s helping to take my job away –
He’s ‘scabbing’ back at me.
First, they came for the Jews –
But I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t one.
Then they came for the Gays –
But I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t one.
Then they came for the Blacks –
But I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t one.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists –
But I didn’t fight back because I’m not one.
But now they’re coming for me –
But there’s nobody left to fight with me.
Oh Mother, tell your children,
Not to do what I have done.
Living with my head in the sand,
Ignoring everyone.
Solidarity is important –
It’s not an empty word.
We’ve got to stick together,
For the sake of our futures.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1986)
FORGOTTEN GENERATION
Heroin’s a problem, so they say.
But what about social decay,
Unemployment, poverty, cuts and war?
Thatcherite society is supposed to be
for you and me.
But somehow somewhere
Something’s gone adrift.
Documentaries on the TV screen.
Articles in magazines.
Glossy images
touching all our hearts.
But it’s no problem,
I can cope.
I can give up when I like.
And nobody gives a
damn anyway.
What’s it got to do with you?
You’ve never cared about me before.
You’ve always swept the problem
away.
Lots of people discus my case.
School history and parental state.
But why don’t you just look
outside your door?
So many people show concern.
They say nice things and
do a good turn.
But don’t you see the problem
still remains?
I’ve just left school,
Nothing for me.
No money to spend,
No job to do.
What have I got to look
forward to.
I’ve got this habit,
I need some cash,
I got arrested and was
put away.
But that doesn’t mean the
problem disappears.
It’s all our problem,
But can we cope?
Do you really want to know?
What’s on offer to give us a future?
I’ll give up when something
better turns up.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1987)
TWELVE LONG MONTHS
For twelve long months, the Miners were fighting.
Fighting for a future, fighting for their lives.
But through that long hard struggle, many have betrayed them.
Backstabbing and letting them fight the Tories on their own.
But one day the ‘scabs’ will see.
One day they’ll all be –
Up against the wall, like the Miners were.
Fighting for their own jobs, fighting for their futures.
When their jobs are on the line, they’ll crawl to us for help.
Then they all will see, that fighting for your futures
can’t be done on your own.
For twelve long months, the Miners Wives were fighting.
Alongside the Miners. against pit closures -
Fighting for a better life.
But the Labour leadership betrayed them,
The TUC ignored them and the media abused them.
They put up a brilliant struggle,
but they need more to win.
So why didn’t they support them?
Why did they betray them?
Those brilliant class fighters, fighting for all of our lives.
So open up your eyes, see what you have done.
You’ve betrayed the Miners,
yourself and everyone.
By betraying the Working Class,
I hope you’re ashamed of what you’ve done.
Come on and change your ways,
and decide which side you’re on.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1985)
THE REAL TERRORISTS?
While children suffer through hospital cuts.
Millions are spent on nuclear bombs.
Old people die in the winter cold.
Who are the real terrorists?
Who are he real terrorists?
Is it Nelson Mandella?
Or Thatcher?
While people sleep on the cold dark streets.
Property speculators make a mint.
Playing around with peoples’ lives.
Lining their pockets out of our plight.
Who are the real terrorists?
Who are he real terrorists?
Is it Nelson Mandella?
Or Thatcher?
As they moan about terrorist attacks.
Libya’s bombed by US jets.
Grenada’s invaded, and Nicaragua’s attacked.
They support Botha who killed the Blacks.
They may hold the cards but the tables will turn.
The game’s not over till they draw their last breath.
The Ace of spades is concealed in the pack.
There’s only two Jokers and they’re both back to back.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1988)
THEIR WARS, OUR LIVES
Their wars, our lives.
They survive, we die.
Who are we fighting for?
What are we fighting for?
They send us off, to fight a war,
Somewhere on a foreign shore.
To kill a so-called enemy.
Someone like you and me.
Capitalist exploitation.
Imperialist domination.
That’s what a war is for.
To protect their profits
and power.
Their wars, our lives.
They survive, we die.
Who are we fighting for?
What are we fighting for?
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1986)
TORY BRITAIN
What do you do when you leave school?
There’s no jobs to go to and nothing to do.
No money to spend to ease the boredom.
Staying in bed just to use up time.
So what is happening in Tory Britain?
There’s no jobs to go to and nothing to do.
What’s on offer to give us a future?
Factories are closing and the Army calls.
But how much longer can we listen to promises?
Clever words from old men in suits.
Sacrificing for a brighter tomorrow.
When all we see is the rich getting richer.
So here we are in Tory Britain.
Unemployment, cuts and war.
No money for hospitals, schools and welfare.
But millions to keep the Unions down.
So what’s on offer to give us a future?
Factories are closing and the Army calls.
But don’t let them con us into signing our life away.
We may be unemployed but we have our self-respect.
So don’t give in, it’s our future.
Stand together and fight for our rights.
So we all may live in Tory Britain.
But don’t let them grind us into the ground.
It’s our future that’s on the line now.
Let’s stand together and fight for our rights.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1986)
FORTRESS WAPPING!
Old Rupert Murdock, is not a very nice man.
He bought ‘The Sun’ newspaper for two hundred and fifty grand.
When he took it over, he cut the workforce down.
Now he’s built a fortress on the east side of the town.
It’s called ‘Fortress Wapping’, he’s taking the workers on.
Divide the workers, attack the Unions, split up the Working class.
Fortress Wapping’s the future they say, but let’s not forget the past.
Now he owns ‘The sun’, ‘The Times’ and the ‘News of the World’.
He’s made a bloody fortune off the backs of the print workers.
When he got what he wanted, he engineered a strike,
and threw six thousand workers on the stones overnight.
The workers through the centuries have fought for their rights.
Let’s not throw it back at them, let’s not give up the fight.
Let’s all stand together, together we are strong.
If we are divided, we’ll never right this wrong.
An injury to one, is an injury to all.
So what are you going to do
when the axe man comes to call?
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1986)
WAITING FOR SOMEONE ELSE
We always spend our lives, waiting for someone else.
We put our cross on the paper, there’s no choice.
We let others control our lives.
We give them the power so that we can hide.
So don’t give up, don’t say there is ‘no choice’.
Don’t shit on others, use your voice.
Use your power, it’s your right.
Don’t let others always rule your life.
We always spend our lives, waiting for someone else.
To make the move, to improve our lot.
We sit in silence, hiding what we feel.
Letting other people do what they will.
We always spend our lives, waiting for someone else.
Union Leaders negotiate away our rights.
Voting for Parliament every five years.
We think this is all that there is.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1988)
VOTE LABOUR WITH NO ILLUSIONS
Well here they are, the ‘Labour Party’.
Out to win votes, no attacking the Tories.
Publicity is the name of the game.
A suit and a tie on a TV screen.
Shaking hands with bosses is the way to win!
Can’t afford to be militant.
Can’t afford to be radical.
Can’t afford to lose any votes.
That’s why they’re the ‘Labour Party’.
Since 1900, what have they done?
Five Labour governments, when will socialism come?
Try to reform the system away.
Papering the cracks, isn’t the way.
Winning elections, is all that counts.
Passive activity, is the way.
Sit at home and let them rule our lives.
Wait for the leaders to fight for our rights.
So vote Labour, with no illusions.
Let’s kick the Tories out!
But when we get Neil Kinnock,
you’ll see what shit he does to us.
So don’t believe the Labour Party,
will bring us any closure to socialism.
The Ruling class won’t give it to us.
We have to take what is our right.
Copyright: Gordon Warren (1986).
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