Let’s walk the path where the hawthorn grows
Hugging the river for as long as it flows
Through silver trees and the calls on the flash
Now wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t that be grand?
Around the houses, down the duplicate streets
To where the wheels in the sky are now wheels in concrete
Flattened hills on which the future’s now cast
Will it be nice? Will it be grand?
Will it be nice? Will it be grand?
Around the bailey where those thoughts were esconsed
The night walk home and it’s frosty response
The powers that be are laying waste to the land –
Now that wasn’t nice, no, that wasn’t grand…
WORKERS OF THE WORLD UNITE – YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT YOUR CHAINS
Wouldn’t that be nice now?
Wouldn’t that be grand?
Take my word, take my hand
Here’s my world, here’s my land
Relevant today as it ever was.
