- In the hills up to the north - There's road blocks on the Meden bridge - There's click click
clicking on the phone - They're sealing off our villages - Sealing off our homes
- Her father crossed the battle lines - In the first months of the war - She frowns down at the
soup kitchen - She doesn't have a father anymore - It's cold in the early mornings - Standing
with your mates - Staring at the thick blue line - Armed and ready at the gates
- This ain't some tinpot story arriving from a distant shore - But our own sweet green and
pleasant land in 1984
- The servants of our great nation - Have lied in the name of us all - While the officers of
peace and order - Are busy breaking every law - There's hundreds on the trumped-up charges
- Hundreds on the streets - The future of our villages - Sown with bitter seeds
- And hatred starts to rumble where there was no hate before - In our own sweet green and
pleasant land in 1984
- Nobody wanted to see the blood - As the blue lights flash through the night - But all the
words fell on deaf ears - And now the blind frustration bites
- Two nations under one crown divided more and more - In our own sweet green and pleasant
land in 1984
