The Road To Mandalay (An Old Ballad I Heard A Beggar Sing) Poem by Paddy Scott Hogg

We’re rollin along the road today
Headin’ somewhere, who can say.
There’s laughing; there’s crying
Where are our dreams flying?
The road is dusty, the road is long
The road goes on, right or wrong.
Let’s celebrate, we’re on our way
We’re on the road to Mandalay!

It’s the only way to get things done
Labourin away at the point of a gun
Soup for lunch, nothin’ for tea!
The cheapest workers work for free!
No union rights, no smokin’ breaks
No coffee cups nor crossiant cakes
No slackers; spongers, no complaints
Just bury him alive if he faints!

The fiercest growler, the meanest whip
Will lash the loons if they trip
With brown backs bent, the Burmese slaves
Rebuild their country; dig their graves.
Fascist capitalism, the efficient way
Crushes Freedom without a say.
We remember the allies by the railway line
16,000 worked to death by fascist swine.

The sand burns hot in paradise
Where palm trees kiss the skies
The sea’s opaque; a crystal clear blue
The midday sun would frizzle you
Here, the jackboots march in time
The people, ants, without a dime
Here, the power egos rules supreme
And freedom is a foreign dream.

But the finger turns and points to here
Where rights are fading once held dear.
From YTS to the new Work Fair
It’s coming soon, what’s over there!
Blair’s the man, just wait an’ see
The pandora’s box he’ll set free.
Cheap labour is death without your rights
What no-one knows, no-one indites.