| I remember running as the siren screamed
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| Bedding down in a bunker on the warden’s knee
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| Trying to play it cool and act my age
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| As the war birds swooped and the blitzkrieg raged
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| But you can’t really blame it on Friday night
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| If the radio’s dead and they’ve doused the lights
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| Old Churchill told us we’ll stay free
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| Just lay the blame on Germany
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| Blitz babies born to be crazy
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| Kids too young to fight
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| Spitfires hummin', Messerschmidt’s a comin'
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| Doodlebugs dancin' on the West End nights
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| Blitz babies England made us
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| Listen to your labour lies
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| Now we’re older ships on our shoulders
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| Working men spit into the unions eyes
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| But you can’t really blame it on Friday night
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| When the blinds are down for the comin' fight
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| My old man’s crowing through his cockney pride
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| Sayin' just remember boy, God’s on our side
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| Chased through the rubble as the buildings shook
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| For breaking into houses stealing rasion books
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| The hard hats tanned us, they took our names
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| As we whistled at the WAF’s and watched the flames |