A LIBERATOR'S LULLABY
                                      or
                Night Song of Fairford Woman

Night Song of Fairford Woman
If you wake at midnight, and hear the bomber fleet,
Don't go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street,
Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie.
Watch the fence, my darling, while your freedom's planes fly by!
      Two and fifty Boeings
      Roaring through the night -
      'Just' war waged for Tony,
      Vengeance from the Right:
Oilfields liberated, slush funds fed thereby,
And watch the fence, my darling,
                                while your freedom's planes fly by.

Running round the local lanes if you chance to find
Death's head labels on the wire,
                           paths as though they're mined,
Don't you call the Press to look, nor gather there to pray.
Hide your protest in your heart -
                                    and plan your route next day!

If you see some hangar doors setting open wide;
If you see a bombed-up plane, windscreen smeared inside;
If your mother mends a coat, cut about and tore;
If the lining's wet with paint - don't you ask no more!

If you meet George Bush's men, or police instead,
You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said.
If they call you "pretty maid", and chuck you 'neath the chin,
Don't you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one's been!

Knocks and footsteps round the camp - whistles after dark -
You'll be best not running out when police dogs bark.
Blair's lawyers and Blunkett's boys, see how dumb they lie -
They don't stir to stop the crimes that pirate bombers ply!

If you do as you've been told, likely there's a chance,
Dad will get a contract which wont be got in France,
Plus a logoed baseball cap and Macdonald's food -
A present from George Bush's men, along of being good!
      Two and fifty Boeings
      Roaring through the night -
      'Just' war waged for Tony,
      Vengeance from the Right:
Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie -
Watch freedom's stock free-falling, while the bomber fleets fly by!

                    (Apologies to Rudyard Kipling)

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