The Young’uns
These Hands
The War’d not long been over, and the future seemed so bright
We gathered in the churchyard, in Georgetown at night
He said, “There’s work in England, for woman and for man”
So I clapped the handsome stranger with these hands

Farewell to Guiana, the land where I was born!
We sailed for South Hampton on a bright April morn
And the moon was sinking quickly as we looked back to the land
And I held on to the railing with these hands

Now when we came to England, it was late in the night
Took a train to Paddington, and my, what a sight!
Was a white woman sweeping up around a paper stand
And I rubbed my eyes in wonder, with these hands

Now I was a hard worker, and I had skills to share
Songs to sing, and joy to bring, and children to bear
But “No blacks, no dogs, no irish!” I couldn’t understand
But I wiped away my tears with these hands

Now, the first place that I had to rent, it didn’t have a bath
The next place barely had a roof, sometimes you have to laugh
For under an umbrella well, it wasn’t what I’d planned
But I cooked the christmas dinner with these hands

I became a foster-mother, took a hundred children in
Loved everyone, kissed everyone, no matter what their skin
And they offered me an MBE, I said, “I don’t need one
“Besides, I’ve no good dress to wear it on.”
So I asked if I could trade it for the things I really need
Like bedsheets and pillow slips for all the kids I feed
And the Mayor, he listened to me and he made this promise grand
And the keys of a new house were in these hands

But soon jackboots came marching through the streets of our town
Our tyres slashed, our windows smashed, our youth club burned down
And I prayed that my children didn’t understand
As I wiped their smeared faces with these hands

And the words of the stranger who’d led me here
Weren’t the words of welcome now, but words of fear
And the river was bleeding and the smell was foul
For the stranger’s name was Enoch Powell

And at four o’clock one morning, a knock came at my door
They took me down to Deptford, where raging fires roared
Thirteen would die that night, the flames could not be fanned
And still the smell of New Cross is on these hands.

But as the people gathered, and as the people cried
As the flames fell, and as the flames died
I stood among the ashes and beneath the brooding sky
I said, “My name is Phoenix, and we will rise!”

For these hands wear the years of love, they bear the scars of pain
These hands have built a better world, and these hands will again
And though these hands are old now, well they’ve got more to give
These hands don’t forget, but they forgive
And though the walls are rising now, you may think hope is gone
These hands of mine, they are the proof of all that can be done
So whoever is your neighbor, link hands and make a stand
And we will face the future with these hands!

Whoever is your neighbor, link arms and make a stand
And we will face the future with these hands!