| «Do you mind a question? |
| Please sir, stay
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| What was life like in the olden days?»
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| «Long ago, ago, ago, ago before the war»
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| «Contractors to Her Majesty’s Government we were
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| Dealers in honest trade, aye
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| There were some mighty queer folk about
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| But most were honest workers and knew their place
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| I was a skilled craftsman, mark you
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| The work was hard and the hours, they were long
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| Ah, but there was a maiden
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| And her name was Marjorie
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| Long black hair she had like a gypsy
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| And the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen
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| And I called her an angel
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| And I was right, she was
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| Then there was the war
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| The war…
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| Forging a pathway for freedom
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| Using resources we need them
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| Though our foes are human beings
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| We stand between them
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| And the life we do condone
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| Shipped out to Belgium to stop them
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| Plastered and shelled them
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| But lost ground
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| Bombs and rockets, V2s over London city
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| And the world at their command
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| And back in Yeadon, Marjorie
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| Stood beneath a factory
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| I was assured she felt no pain
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| Withdrawn from Dunkirk in cruisers
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| Who cares says I, we’re all losers
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| No-one wins — both sides the victims of our nature
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| May the future learn
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| And back in Yeadon, Marjorie
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| Died beneath the factory
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| A Messerschmidt her destiny
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| You who think the rest are wrong
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| And stand so tall and feel so strong
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| Please be sure that you yourselves are not mistaken
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| For the future won’t be long" |