| You could be there
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| On a dark october night
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| Waiting for the moment to be
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| Swimming 'cross the freezing river
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| Holding a plastic bag of belongings just out of the water
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| Climbing up the banks on the other side
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| Hiding in the trees so cold
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| That you hardly show as a target
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| On the heat seeking gear of the border patrol
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| But you made it, you’re another one over
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| Sleeping on a bench in a railway station
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| In the heart of Europe
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| Haven’t eaten anything for two days straight
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| But where there is a will there’s allways gonna be a way
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| And every door is guarded
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| And every guard costs money
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| So the women are bought and kept and raped and sold as slaves
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| Because the family borrowed from the man
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| And the man has allways got to be repaid
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| For the deals of the borders and the fake IDs
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| And the stolen passports all locked away
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| While the women are working and gagging down on their knees
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| And somewhere in the back of terminal 3
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| In the clogged-up corridors of the imigration authorities
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| Whole families with the wrong bits of paper
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| Are waiting to be sent back to where they came from
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| Escorted by officials out across the tarmac
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| With their wrist bound tight with cable ties behind their backs
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| It’s dawn and there’s fog in Rotterdam harbour
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| And the guard’s on his break and the dogs are chained by the wire
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| Three figures come out from behind the cranes
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| Make across the train tracks
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| Climb aboard a Panamanian freighter headed for the isle of grain
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| Find a place to hide in a stack of containers
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| Another payload of world trade because
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| Goods are free to move but not people
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| Oil is free to move but not people
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| Jobs are free to move but not people
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| Money is free to move but not people
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| And today they got a man hauled off a truck in the port of calais
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| We watch him in silence as they lead him away
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| Clutching his battered suitcase
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| But his face betrays him, lost and scared and defeated
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| Sitting in the back of the white port authority van
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| Well, where do any of us come from, it’s pretty hard to say
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| While high in the sky above us tonight
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| The bombers are heading the other way, south and east
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| Into the blood red crimson sunrise of another imperial day |