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Between the Wars


I was a miner, I was a
docker,
I was a train driver between the wars.
I raised a family in time of austerity.
We swept at the foundry between the wars.

I paid the union, and as times got older
I looked to the government to help the working man.
And they brought prosperity — down at the armory.
We’re arming for peace, my boys, between the wars.

I kept the faith, and I kept voting,
Not for the iron fist but for the helping hand –
For theirs is a land with a wall around it,
And mine is a faith in my fellow man.

Theirs is a land of hope and glory;
Mine is the green field and the factory floor.
Theirs are the skies all dark with bombers;
And mine is the peace we knew between the wars.

Call up the craftsmen, bring me the
draftsmen,
Build me a path from cradle to grave,
And I’ll give my consent to any government
That does not deny a man a living wage.

Go find the young men, never to fight again,
Call up the banners from the days gone by.
Sweet moderation, heart of this nation,
Desert us not, we are between the wars.

 

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