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When Stockton Cried No Pasaran
The summers end was near
We smoked in the dockyard
And talked of the foe
Which even now came closer
They began to arrive
Bus loads of them
Black hearts in black shirts
But we were ready
They marched and we charged
They ran and we chased
The police to protect them
They withdrew in haste
We rained upon them stones
and blows, and be there a God
He was not in black clothes
But raging there with us
They limped away by omnibus
A souless caravan
Crawled back to Leeds and Nottingham
When Stockton cried 'No Pasaran!'.
Copyright ©
Steve Sant
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