Category: songs

Leon Rosselson 1966

Rosselson adapted the text from Déjeuner du Matin, a verse by French poet Jacques Prévert. Kerr: "I will always associate this with the 1966 album Love Loneliness Laundry, its somehow dystopian guitar riff, and Val Bailey's wonderful vocals which are simultaneously stoic and enraged. Leon has observed that feminism 'declared the personal to be political which seems to me to be a very good idea as far as songwriting is concerned.'"

Nancy Kerr: https://nancykerr.bandcamp.com/track/invisible-married-breakfast-blues

Nobody looking at me
He puts the spoon in the sugar and the sugar in the tea
And he unfolds his paper methodically
And he stirs his tea and sips his tea
Without looking at me

He sips his tea without looking at me
With an automatic gesture he taps his knee
And he looks at his watch mechanically
And he smiles at me across an empty sea
Without looking at me

He smiles at me without looking at me
And his smile is as heavy as gravity
And it falls on the table and the cups of tea
And inevitably he kisses me
Without looking at me

He kisses me without looking at me
And he turns at the door as if to see
If there’s something he’s forgotten but it’s only me
And he looks at me across an empty sea
Without looking at me

Bridge:
Without looking at me, without looking at me
Alone with my own invisibility
And the tablecloth stained and staring at me
And the sugar bowl floating in an empty sea
And an empty cup where my heart ought to be
And nobody, nobody looking at me 

Phil Ochs 1966

Is there anybody here Who’d like to change his clothes into a uniform?
Is there anybody here Who thinks they’re only serving on a raging storm?
Is there anybody here with glory in their eyes
Loyal to the end, whose duty is to die?

Chorus:
I wanna see him,
I wanna wish him luck
I wanna shake his hand,
Wanna call his name
Put a medal on the man
Is there anybody here proud of the parade
Who’d like to give a cheer and show they’re not afraid?
I’d like like to ask him what he’s trying to defend
I’d like to ask him what he thinks he’s gonna win

Is there anybody here Who’d like to wrap a flag around an early grave?
Is there anybody here Who thinks they’re standing taller on a battle wave?
Is there anybody here who’d like to do his part
Soldier to the world and a hero to his heart?

Is there anybody here Who thinks that following the orders takes away the blame?
Is there anybody here Who wouldn’t mind a murder by another name?
Is there anybody here whose pride is on the line
With the honor of the brave and the courage of the blind? 

Robert Burns 1794

Detailed analysis

Is there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a’ that?
The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a’ that!
For a’ that, and a’ that, Our toils obscure and a’ that,
The rank is but the guinea’s stamp, The man’s the gowd for a’ that.

What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin grey, and a’ that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man’s a man for a’ that:
For a’ that, and a’ that, Their tinsel shew, and a’ that,
The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor, Is king o’ men for a’ that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord, Wha struts and stares and a’ that;
Tho’ hundreds worship at his word, He’s but a coof for a’ that:
For a’ that, and a’ that, His ribband, star, and a’ that,
The man o’ independent mind, He looks and laughs at a’ that.

A prince can make a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a’ that;
But an honest man’s aboon his might, Gude faith, he maunna fa’ that!
For a’ that, and a’ that, Their dignities and a’ that;
The pith o’ sense, and pride o’ worth, Are higher rank than a’ that.

Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will, for a’ that,
That sense and worth, o’er a’ the earth, May bear the gree, and a’ that!
For a’ that, and a’ that, It’s coming yet for a’ that,
That man to man, the warld o’er, Shall brothers be for a’ that. 

Si Kahn 1981

Written for the International Year of Disabled Persons. Last line rewritten by Alex Ellis.

You must know someone like him He was tall and strong and lean
With a body like a greyhound And a mind so sharp and keen
But his heart, just like a laurel Grew twisted ’round itself
‘Til almost everything he did Brought pain to someone else

Chorus:
Well, it’s not just what you’re born with It’s what you choose to bear
It’s not how big your share is It’s how much you can share
It’s not the fights you dreamed of It’s those you’ve really fought
It’s not what you’ve been given It’s what you do with what you’ve got

Oh, what’s the use of two strong legs If you only run away?
And what’s the use of the finest voice If you’ve nothing good to say?
What’s the use in strength of muscle If you only push and shove?
And what’s the use in two good ears If you can’t hear those you love?

Between those who use their neighbors And those who use the cane?
Between those in constant power And those in constant pain?
Between those who run to glory And those who cannot run?
Who makes our country weaker And which ones touch the sun? 

Keith Marsden 1989

Marsden founded the West Yorkshire folk singing group Cockersdale. The "Rec." is the Recreation Ground and a "corky" is cricket ball which is hard cork covered in leather. Finest Kind: "Keith and his songs are remembered in a delightful tribute song book called Picking Sooty Blackberries (Fellsongs Music Publishing, Workington, Cumbria CA14 3EW), in which the whole story of Jack Ashton and his tall tales can be found."

Finest Kind: https://ianrobb1.bandcamp.com/track/jack-ashton

Oh the times were hard and mean and our childhood days were lean
In the land they said was fit for Flanders heroes
It was all a seaside show where poor folk couldn’t go
We just stood outside while others watched the pierrots
And we only had to spend what our friend Sam Clegg would lend
There was little of Lloyd George’s promised glories
But each evening down the street by the gaslamp we would meet
And we’d listen while Jack Ashton told his stories

Chorus:
Aye we sat there and listened with our mouths open wide
Though we knew in our hearts that the old devil lied
But we needed to believe in the magic he would weave
And we took a glass for old times’ sake the day Jack died

Now our all-wise parents said that he’d a screw loose in the head
And that we were daft to listen to his lies
But we saw their daily grind and heard the magic in his mind
And we knew who was daft and who was wise
Though he nearly broke our necks playing soccer on the Rec
And his bowling with a corky could be gory
As the evening sun went down by the lamp we’d gather round
And we’d listen while Jack Ashton told a story

Now that Jack’s been laid to rest if there’s any justice left
He’ll be telling yarns now to the Holy Ghost
And gathered round his knee open-mouthed as we would be
Sit saints and angels, all the heavenly host
And he’ll tell them how he saved old Moses from the waves
And slew Goliath with one mighty blow
While an all-forgiving Lord listens smiling at his words
As we did by the gas lamp long ago

Fred Small 1991

In the emerald cathedral
In the valley of clouds
In the span of the branches
Two eyes keep the watch
Where the hummingbird dances
And the snake hesitates
With the calm of command
The jaguar waits
The chain saw is whining the bulldozer roars
Monkeys are screeching in flight
The spires of the Arawak cut down at one blow

Chorus:
Where will the jaguar go? (x2)

Under the hammer of hunger
On the anvil of fear
The poor of São Paulo
Stream to the frontier
With the promise of farmland
Honest work honest pay
Till the rains unrelenting
Sweep the topsoil away
The captains of cattle take the land cheap
New York and Osaka crave beef
Hooves crush the dirt into dust below

Bridge:
When the circle is broken When the crystal is cracked
When the thread of creation is torn
We slip through the veil into terrors unknown
Where will the jaguar go?

In the canyons of commerce
In convoys of light
The armies of loneliness
Drive into the night
Trading plastic for plastic
Making fashion of trash
We are dreaming of love
As love turns to ash
The fires of Prometheus flare to the sky
The seas of the prophets boil dry
This gutted globe was a garden I’m told

Robb Johnson 2025

Everybody likes to talk about their cat
It’s curled up in their heart, makes their home complete
Jana likes to think asleep inside her cat
There beats a tigers heart that is not hers to keep

Chorus:
Jana is sixteen (x2)

I usually start each day in conversation with my cat
She likes it when the sun shines, blames me when it rains
But when she stood outside past midnight in the rain
I call her by her name. Jana does the same

Jana is sixteen, it’s midnight in Jenin.
December the 11th, there’s soldiers everywhere
Calling for her cat, Jana climbs the stairs
A soldier shoots her twice in the face, twice in the chest (x3) 

Julie Matthews 1995

We are a proud land, we stand for freedom
We’ve got the franchise on how to lead them
We’ve got the history and books to prove it
Give us a mountain and we will move it
We rule the waves and the seven seas
We bring the mighty to their knees
We offer hope and inspiration
A fine example to lesser nations
We are Britannia, the jewel in the crown

We brought a system to the masses
Divide the nation into classes
It’s in our breeding and on our faces
At least we’re all born knowing our places
We stay within our social borders
We only take what our class affords us
It doesn’t matter that it’s not even
This is the nature of the demon
We are Britannia, the jewel in the crown

Chorus:
We are Britannia We crowned an empire
We came and conquered We tore their borders down
We need no conscience God is on our side
We are Britannia The jewel in the crown

We are your friendly liberators
We’ll free your country from your dictators
For a small slice of your oil wells
We’ll send our boys in with their gun shells
We are a refuge for the needy
Always caring, never greedy
Whatever gesture could be finer?
We’ve given Hong Kong back to China
We are Britannia, the jewel in the crown 

trad 

Archie Fisher recorded in 1976 on The Man With a Rhyme, where he wrote: "An Irish narrative ballad that has been shortened to an Aberdeenshire drinking song. Though I've searched the map of Eire in vain for a 'River Kildare' and changed verse three so that the dog doesn't get shot, the song is essentially still Jeannie Robertson's version heard many years ago and reinspired by the singing of her daughter, Lizzie Higgins."

Now, my name is Jock Stewart,
I’m a canny gaun man,
And a roving young fellow I’ve been.

Chorus:
So be easy and free
When you’re drinkin wi’ me.
I’m a man you don’t meet every day.

I have acres of land,
I have men at command;
I have always a shilling to spare.

Now, I took out my gun,
With my dog I did shoot
All down by the River Kildare.

So, come fill up your glasses
Of brandy and wine,
And whatever the cost, I will pay. 

Sydney Carter 1981

Ball lived in the mid-14th century during the Plague and the Hundred Years' War. Most accounts from the time of his are written derisively by his opponents so much of the popular understanding is reconstructed or imagined, but he did emphasize social equity.

Melrose Quartet: https://melrosequartet.bandcamp.com/track/john-ball

Who will be the lady, who will be the lord,
When we are ruled by the love of another?
Who will be the lady, who will be the lord,
In the light that is coming in the morning.

Chorus:
Sing, John Ball, and tell it to them all
Long live the day that is dawning!
I’ll crow like a cock, I’ll carol like a lark,
For the light that is coming in the morning.

Eve is the lady, Adam is the lord,
When we are ruled by the love of another,
Eve is the lady, Adam is the lord,
In the light that is coming in the morning.

All shall be ruled by fellowship I say,
All shall be ruled by the love of one another,
All shall be ruled by fellowship I say,
In the light that is coming in the morning.

Labour and spin for fellowship I say,
Labour and spin for the love of one another.
Labour and spin for fellowship I say,
In the light that is coming in the morning.