There was once, when I knew well the taste of clean air
Silence so serene
Now I can't shake the gangrene stench
God and King want your all, then some
Each night when I dream of home
I can hear the guns, that belligerent crack
And if they get their way
I know we ain't coming back
No men to parade
The dock fell ghostly silent though the order came, yea
No men to parade
Fuck you go to hell
Let there be no misunderstanding
From the Bastille free John Pantling
No men to parade
When the orders came
See us raising the red flag up on the Kilbride
No we ain't gonna join no whites
Stand down your arms Murmansk
You're gonna tell the boys
They're coming home from Archangel
Better step aside, 'cause we won't think twice right now
To train a rifle site between an officers eyes
No men to parade
The dock fell ghostly silent though the order came, yea
No men to parade
Fuck you go to hell
We've been used in a rich man's game
Preach on preach John Maclean, oh!
No men to parade when the orders came
Acrimony, agitation, discontent, sentences of death
Shipping out to Bodmin jail
Fusiliers with ball cartridge and bayonet
Offer no reply to the cry of demobilise
Lower deck rise in discontent
