DESCRIPTION:
Today in a village of famine, a feast was had by all
So stop the presses and listen for the riots and the brawls
But no rifles were aimed at comrades, only at our fascist lords
There were ghosts of Winstanley's farmers when they were wielding ploughs not swords

What reason have they to dance and to sing?
Their pockets are all empty, they've no stewarts queens or kings
No bosses, laws or order, marching armies must we bring
To give them all a reason now to dance, and to sing

Hush scholar of history, do not write a word
We'll make repetition of precedents, see that this dream is deferred
Tell of insatiable greed within us and how the rebellion didn't work
So in a hundred years, it's forgotten shift the tale and shift the worth

What reason have they to dance and to sing?
Their pockets are all empty, they've no stewards queens or kings
No bosses, laws or order, marching armies must we bring
To give them all a reason now to dance, and to sing

Where the woman took up arms to kill the fascists to protect life
Where the food was freed at last for all the people's forks and knifes

'tis the reason they have to dance and to sing
Their pockets are all empty, they've no stewards queens or kings
No bosses, laws or order, marching armies must we bring
Each day gives them a reason now to dance, and to sing