Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Soldier, artist - Angelic Upstarts. Album song Power of the Press, in the genre Панк
Date of issue: 31.12.1984
Record label: Cherry Red
Song language: English
Soldier |
In the station in the city a British soldier stood |
Talking to the people there if the people would |
Some just stared in hatred and others turned in pain |
And the lonely British soldier wished he was back home again |
«Come join the British army» Said the posters in his town |
«See the world and have your fun, come serve before the crown» |
The jobs were hard to come by and he could not face the dole |
So he took his country’s shilling and enlisted on the roll |
But there was no fear of fighting, the Empire long was lost |
Just ten years in the army, getting paid for being bossed |
Then leave a man experienced, a man who’s made the grade |
A medal and a pension, some mem’ries and a trade |
Then came the call to Ireland as the call had come before |
Another bloody chapter in an endless civil war |
The priests they stood on both sides, the priests they stood behind |
Another fight in Jesus' name, the blind against the blind |
The soldier stood between them, between the whistling stones |
And then the broken bottles that led to broken bones |
The petrol bombs that burned his hands, the nails that pierced his skin |
And wished that he had stayed at home surrounded by his kin |
The station filled with people, the soldier soon was bored |
But better in the station than where the people warred |
The room filled up with mothers, with daughters and with sons |
Who stared with itchy fingers at the soldier and his guns |
A yell of fear, a screech of brakes, a shattering of glass |
The window of the station broke to let the package pass |
A scream came from the mothers as they ran towards the door |
Dragging children crying from the bomb upon the floor |
The soldier stood and could not move, his gun he could not use |
He knew the bomb had seconds and not minutes on the fuse |
He could not run to pick it up and throw it in the street |
There were far too many people there, too many running feet |
«Take cover!» |
Yelled the soldier, «Take cover for your lives!» |
And the Irishmen threw down their young and stood before their wives |
They turned towards the soldier, their eyes alive with fear |
«For God’s sake, save our children, or they’ll end their short lives here» |
The soldier moved towards the bomb, his stomach like a stone |
Why was this his battle, God, why was he alone? |
He laid down on the package and he murmured one farewell |
To those at home in England, to those he loved so well |
He saw the sights of summer, felt the wind upon his brow |
The young girls in the city parks, how precious were they now? |
The soaring of the swallow, the beauty of the swan |
The music of the turning earth so soon would it be gone |
A muffled soft explosion and the room began to quake |
The soldier blown across the floor, his blood a crimson lake |
They never heard him cry or shout, they never heard him moan |
And they turned their children’s faces from the blood and from the bone |
The crowd outside soon gathered and the ambulances came |
To carry off the body of a pawn lost to the game |
And the crowd they clapped and jeered, and they sang their rebel songs |
«One soldier less to interfere where he did not belong» |
And will the children growing up learn at their mother’s knee |
The story of the soldier who bought their liberty? |
Who used his youthful body as the means towards the end |
Who gave his life to those who called him murderer not friend |