Mark B
Sometimes I get to sing this song:
Orchard vs. Runway?
We ain’t gonna have no third runway round here
And if we stand together we’ve got nothing to fear
We’re gonna run this Camp on wind, wave and sun
And we might even have a little revolution
But we ain’t gonna have no more runways round here…
We all pay for your holiday heaven you know
That 747 is a murder weapon you know
Burning all this kerosene’s
Turning London into New Orleans
And your 747 is a murder weapon you know…
And we’re gonna shut that detention centre all the way down
We screw their countries and expect them to sit back and drown
Harmondsworth twinned with New Orleans
Let’s twin reality with our dreams
And we’re gonna tear those detention centres all the way down…
We ain’t gonna have no third runway round here
And if we stand together we’ve got nothing to fear
We’re gonna have a song, we’re gonna have a dance
And we’re gonna help Sipson have a fighting chance
And we ain’t gonna have no more runways round here
Pear trees, plum trees, maybe a Cox’s apple tree,
Back in the middle of the 19th century
You know it was orchards almost as far as the eye could see
Now concrete has the upper hand – temporarily
And injustice has the upper hand – temporarily
Pear trees, plum trees, maybe some olive trees
Could you bust up through the concrete runways please?
Some seeds have a habit of lying dormant until the time is right
We are the seeds, we are the sky,
We are the concrete, don’t ask why
We are the water, we are the sun…
Coming out!
And we ain’t gonna have no more runways round here
And if we stand together we’ve got nothing to fear
We’ve gotta run the world on wind, wave and sun
And we’ve got to have a little revolution
If we ain’t gonna have any runways anywhere
And sometimes I get to sing this song:
LONDON REFUELLING
London calling to the faraway towns
Now war is declared and battle come down
London calling – if terrorists is what we are
Let’s plant a seedbomb in the Home Secretary’s car
London calling before the world turns to dust
Get down to the Climate Camp and out of that Prius
London calling to the Thames Barrier
Here comes the hell and the high water
The ice age is coming, the sun’s zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat’s growing thin
From corporate terror, I have the fear
‘Cos London is drowning and I…live by the river!
London calling to the hordes at Heathrow
May I present you with your own ASBO:
Anti-Social Behaviour Overhead
Let’s make allotments of the runways before we’re all dead
London calling to Cameron and Brown
Spewing kerosene and plotting the ways for us to drown
London calling to stop the war by 4x4
Come skateboarders, cyclists, walkers - let’s not take it anymore
The ice age is coming, the sun’s zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat’s growing thin
Of nuclear error, I have the fear
‘Cos the uranium is leaking and I’m…starting to shiver!
London Calling to my daughter’s daughter’s son
I’m sorry mate, we did what we could – at least it came undone
You inherited a fiddle and a gun
At least there’s no power for your PlayStation
London calling ‘cos the planet’s in A&E
Though somewhere deep deep down I know we’ll all be free
The heatwave is coming, the sun’s zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat’s growing thin
From state-sponsored weather, I face my fear
‘Cos the sea level’s rising…
…the resistance is rising…
…the repression is rising…
'Cos London is drowning but my…spirit shall not wither
In action at the funding meeting:
