Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Ghosts of Cable Street, artist - The Men They Couldn't Hang.
Date of issue: 27.03.2011
Song language: English
The Ghosts of Cable Street |
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 |