| For all those feet in ancient times
|
| For stepping out of line
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| Dragging time and tide
|
| Against the keepers of the past
|
| The flags of class and caste
|
| Limp upon the mast
|
| All your week you were someone’s slave
|
| Today you’re a free man
|
| If they tell you you can’t
|
| Then you can
|
| You can, you can, you can
|
| You can, you can
|
| Walking high upon the hills
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| Rough-shod against well-heeled
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| A butterfly breaks upon the wheel
|
| A compass and a cap
|
| A sing-song and a scrap
|
| A dotted line across the map
|
| All your week you were someone’s slave
|
| Today you’re a free man
|
| If they tell you you can’t
|
| Then you can
|
| You can, you can, you can
|
| You can, you can
|
| Every five-barred gate my home
|
| A place to call my own
|
| Stone to boundary stone
|
| For every footprint on the land
|
| The banners and the banned
|
| Who swayed the best-laid plans
|
| All your week you were someone’s slave
|
| Today you’re a free man
|
| If they tell you you can’t
|
| Then you can
|
| You can, you can, you can |