Is it PotG?
Thrifty non-licker
Dressed to kill one cool spring morning Got on board the first from Portsmouth On the crest of a rising wave Of hate for strangers of our own kind But the headlines, cheering crowds and flags I must admit stirred something in me That faded as we pulled away And turned out to be only fear disguised The bulldogs bayed The pious prayed I think it rained On the Easter Parade Down south the old and desperate men Sacrifice the young and ready On the altar of their crumbling gods Mourning for a long-lost glory For nineteen years you chart my life With your morals and your incentives In six weeks pull it all apart For horror's real and you are far away My mind ingrained I came home maimed So was kept away From the Easter Parade Hooked on a kind of freedom I still need to hurt somebody Too estranged to talk about it Or get close to anyone The mother of the nation cries 'Rejoice!' And I can hardly shuffle Struck down by what the mean can do For political ambition And now the truth begins to surface Like a spectre from dark water Rising up to bring them down I can't take heart, only wonder why Is our conscience lame Is a fall to shame All to be gained From the Easter Parade
Show less
