The vans they come in convoys now - Stealing through the dawn - Silent in the countryside

- 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