Texty: Frank Turner. Love Ire And Song.

A teacher of mine once told me that life was just a list of
Disappointments and defeats and you could only do your best
And I said, "Well, that's a fucking cop out", you're just washed up
And you're tired and when I get to your age
Well, I won't be such a coward

But these days I sit at home, I'm known to shout at my TV
And punk rock didn't live up to what I'd hoped that it could be
And all the things that I believed with all my heart when I was young
Are just coasters for beers and clean surfaces for drugs and
I've packed all my pamphlets with my Bibles at the back of the shelf

Well, it was bad enough, the feeling, the first time it hit
When you realized your parents let the world all go to shit
And that the values and ideals for which so many fought and died
Had been killed off in committees and left to die by the way side

But it was worse when we turned to the kids on the left
And got let down again by some poor excuse for protest
By idiot fucking hippies in fifty different factions
Locked inside some kind of sixties battle re-enactment
So I hung up my banners in disgust and I head for the door

Oh, but once we were young and we were crass enough to care
But I guess, you live and learn, we won't make that mistake again
But surely just for one day we could fight and we could win
And if only for a little while, we could insist on the impossible

Well, we've been a good few hours drinking
So I'm going to say what everyone's thinking
If we're stuck on this ship and it's sinking
Then we might as well have a parade

Because if it's still going to hurt in the morning
And a better plan's yet to get forming
Then where's the harm spending
An evening in manning the old barricades

So come on, old friends, to the streets
Let's be 1905 but not 1917, let's be heroes
Let's be martyrs, let's be radical thinkers
Who never have to test drive the least of their dreams

Let's divide up the world into the damned and the saved
And ride to the valley like the old Light Brigade
And straighten our backs and not be afraid
And they'll celebrate our deaths with a national parade

Leave the morning to the morning, pain can be killed
With aspirin tablets and vitamin pills
But memories of hope and of glorious defeat
Are a little bit harder to beat