England, 1936.
the grip of the sabbath day
in london town the only sound
is a whisper in an alleyway
men put on their gloves and boots
have a smoke before they go
from the west there is a warning of
a wind about to blow
Like caesar marching to the east
marches mosley with his men
dressed in their clothes of deepest black
like a gathering hurricane
this is the british union
with its flag of black and red
a flag that casts a shadow in
berlin and in madrid
So listen to the sound of marching feet
and the voices of the ghosts of cable street
fists and stones and batons and the gun
with courage we shall beat those blackshirts down
So mile by mile they come on down
to a place called cable street
and other men are waiting there
preparations are complete
mosley comes so close
they now can see his outstretched arm
a hand raised up that way
never took the future in its palm
Listen to the sound of marching feet
and the voices of the ghosts of cable street
fists and stones and batons and the gun
with courage we shall beat those blackshirts down
The battle broke as the fists and the batons fell
through the barricades came the sound of the wounded yells
jack spot burst through with a chair leg made of lead
brought down a crashing blow on mosley's head
And so we learn from history generations have to fight
and those who crave for mastery
must be faced down on sight
and if that means by words, by fists, by stones or by the gun
Remember those who stood up for
their daughters and their sons
Listen to the sound of marching feet
and the voices of the ghosts of cable street
fists and stones and batons and the gun
with courage we shall beat those blackshirts down
Listen to the sound of marching feet
and the voices of the ghosts of cable street
fists and stones and batons and the gun
with courage we shall beat those blackshirts down