Levellers Behold A Pale Rider
Bombs go off in London, stirring panic's rhythmic creep. The city turns its shoulders, smooths the cracks and tries to sleep.
And split the Gulf sky red as the oilfields start to blow and weep a heavy storm of black, black rain onto the earth below.
And the millions cried, "Sweet Mary!" A million more cried tears of shame when they saw what they had done in the name of all their hopes and fears, when they realised what they became.
In hidden Eastern passes, that defenders will not yield. To a soldier from the Edgeware Road, come to burn the poppy-fields.
And the millions cried, "Sweet Mary!" A million more cried tears of shame when they saw what they had done in the name of all their hopes and fears, when they realised what they became.
Behold a pale rider: A New World partisan. 20 years still with the desert dust slipping slowly through his hands.
And from the water margins, to Death Row Guantanamo, you can hear that King's Cross countdown as the detonators blow.
And the millions cried, "Sweet Mary!" A million more cried tears of shame when they saw what they had done in the name of all their hopes and fears, when they realised what they became.
Behold a pale rider: A New World partisan. 20 years still with the desert dust slipping slowly through his hands.
