Ghosts of Cable Street Lyrics

England, Nineteen Thirty Six The grip of the Sabbeth day
In London Town the only sound is a whisper in an alleyway
Men put on their gloves and boots, have a smoke before they go
From the west there is a warning of a wind about to blow

Like Caesar marching to the east marches Mosley with his men
Dressed in the clothes of deepest black like a gathering hurricane
This is the British Union with it's flag of Black and Red
A flag that casts a shadow in Berlin and in Madrid

Listen to the sounds of marching feet
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
Fists, stones, batons and the gun
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down

So mile by mile they come on down to a place called Cable street
And other men are waiting there, preparations are complete
Mosley comes so close they now can see his outstretched arm
A hand held up that way never took the future in it's palm

Listen to the sounds of marching feet
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
Fists, stones, batons and the gun
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down

The battle broke as the fists and the batons fell
Through the baracades, past the sounds of the wounded yells
Jack Spot crept through with a chair leg made of lead
Brought down a crushing blow on Mosley's head

So we learn from history generations have to fight
And those who crave for mastery must be faced down on sight
And if that means by words, by fist, by stones or by the gun
Remember those who stood up for their daughters and their sons

Listen to the sounds of marching feet
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
Fists, stones, batons and the gun
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down

Listen to the sounds of marching feet
And the voices of the ghosts of Cable Street
Fists, stones, batons and the gun
With courage we shall beat those blackshirts down