| Running in the moors
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| Running in the hills
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| And then to school at the end of summer
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| Children,
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| Five years of age,
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| Without a word of English in my head
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| Here is your book,
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| Here is your pen.
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| «Study hard», that’s what they told me,
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| «And you will rise up in the world,
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| You will get ahead.»
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| Twenty years for the truth
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| I had to wait
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| I had to search
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| Twenty years of lies
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| They denied me knowledge of myself.
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| I learned many things
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| The English language, the poetry of England
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| The music of Germany
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| The history of Spain
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| And even that was a false history
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| Then on to further education
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| Following education, more education
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| Like idiots on the end of a string
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| Our heads filled with a sort of learning
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| Twenty years for the truth
|
| I had to wait
|
| I had to search
|
| Twenty years of lies
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| They denied me knowledge of myself.
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| And I did rise in the world
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| I found my suit, I found my shirt
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| I found a place in the eyes of men
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| Well away from the freedom of the moor
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| But why did they keep our history from us?
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| I’ll tell you they are frightened
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| In case the Gaels rise
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| With searching and penetrating questions.
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| Twenty years for the truth
|
| I had to wait
|
| I had to search
|
| Twenty years of lies
|
| They denied me knowledge of myself.
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| When I started searching
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| I could not believe my eyes,
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| evil works.
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| Twenty years and still ignorant |