Standard (EADGBE)
Oh farewell you streets of sorrow and farewell you streets of pain
I'll not return to feel more sorrow nor to see more young men slain
Through the last six years I've lived through terror and in the darkened streets the pain
Oh how I long to find some solace in my mind I curse the strain
So farewell you streets of sorrow and farewell you streets of pain
No I'll not return to feel more sorrow nor to see more young men slain
There were six men in Birmingham in Guildford there's four
That were picked up and tortured and framed by the law
And the filth got promotion but they're still doing time
For being Irish in the wrong place and at the wrong time
In Ireland they'll put you away in the Maze
In England they'll keep you for several long days
God help you if ever you're caught on these shores
And the coppers need someone when they walk through that door
You'll be counting years first five then ten growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and the stinking cell from wall to wall and back again
A curse on the judges the coppers and screws
Who tortured the innocent wrongly accused
For the price of promotion and justice to sell
May the judged be their judges when they rot down in hell
You'll be counting years first five then ten growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and lousy cell from wall to wall and back again
Inst | | | | ||
May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds
And sweat as they count out the sins on their heads
While over in Ireland eight more men lie dead
Kicked down and shot in the back of the head
You'll be counting years first five then ten growing old in a freezing hell
Round the yard and the lousy cell from wall and back again
Counting years first five then ten growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and the lousy cell from wall to wall and back again
Outro | | | | | | | | ||