Born in a mining town in '58.
When black and white TV was up to date.
And men where still around.
Who fought for freedom. Stood their ground and died.
That I could be alive and see the damage,
that we've managed since.
In this septred isle. Is nothing sacred.
Just a one square mile.
Justice and Liberty. You can buy what you don't get free.
In a world of steel and glass. We bury our past.
On and On. We slept till dawn. When we awoke, we hardly spoke.
My grandfather taught me how to fight.
Old fashioned stuff like wrong and right.
But all around I see his morals buried in a mess
Of money troubles, Born in a mining town in '58.
When black and white TV was up to date.
And men where still around.
Who fought for freedom, stood their ground and died.
On and On. We slept till dawn.
When we awoke, it was, all the same.
