The Rushes
Boys will be, boys will be, boys will be
Girls will be, girls will be, girls will be
The whirligig crown come crashing down
Down, down, down, down, oh

Come rise against your oppressors
Till all of us have died
The weeks go by, the weeks go by
The weeks go by, the weeks go by, the weeks go by

Without a garden to kill us quickly
Plants will rise up from the ground around us, oh
The wild roses will be unearthed, but complicit
And their sisters will listen, oh
To the screams of men
Who tended the wheat fields
Without thinking that it might be
More than a harvest
A new Bloody Sunday
Up from the rushеs