There's many who talk of Freedom And we have some it's true But if you think it's fairly shared around Then you don't have a clue, No you just don't have a clue.
Freedom oh Freedom while men are bought and sold You're free if you've plenty of money boys For freedom is like gold. Freedom is like gold.
She's young and she's a mother Her man is out on the town Her life reads like a lousy book But she can't put it down No, she just can't put it down.
Apartheid in South Africa Is everything that's vile In this land of inequality Slavery's in style Slavery's in style.
Have you ever been in CND. And are you a union man? If you stood at the Mine in the picket line You may never work again. You may never work again.
And the rich folk they have plenty While the poor folk they have none But who must die when the bullets fly? It's the poor man and his son The poor man and his son.