| Cruel Britannia ruled the waves,
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| Empire oiled by toiling slaves.
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| White flag stained St. George Cross red,
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| And blues sung for the countless dead.
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| God save brave Johnny Company,
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| Stiff-upper-lipped he sipped his tea,
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| Atop a mound of babes he’d killed,
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| To keep our nations coffers filled.
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| Chorus;
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| Think back and lie of England.
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| Conceal the evil we have done.
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| Think back and lie of England.
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| Fake alibis for Albion.
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| Meanwhile back on British loam,
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| Irish driven from their homes.
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| Persecuted Welsh and Scot,
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| And robbed them all of all they’d got.
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| Bound unto the plough and yoke,
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| They broke the backs of honest folk.
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| Built a gentlemen’s Jerusalem.
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| I’m ashamed I share my race with them!
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| Chorus;
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| Think back and lie of England.
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| Conceal the evil we have done.
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| Think back and lie of England.
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| Fake alibis for Albion.
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| So will a future history tell,
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| How we’ve used this country well?
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| If you ask me, well I think not,
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| Unless we watch these bigots rot.
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| In poverty the masses drown;
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| So raise a Dome in Greenwich town?
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| The Cenotaph is strewn with flowers.
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| Yet arms-deals struck with fascist powers! |