Of stemming the allen flood.
'Our cities are being invaded, hesaid, "Soon the streets will be rivers of bloud, 2. He wid, -Prejudice la'che And it isa't a question of she But it'ssurely a matter of plain Testick by your on a kith and kin Disting the blood of our race:
He neck tarued purple with pil The veins bulged blee le his h 4 li was all a question of num Too many of them would s To threaten Great Britain's traditions Though just how, well, be didn imake clear.
5. The wise ones tat-tutted in chorus, For they quite disapproved ofhis views.
But to be on the safe side they bulled the doon And carelully tighrened the screws:
6. Now the blacks fure a maze at restriction Fashrined in the Immigrent Acros The rules cut off purenis from children And thisis called Fucing the facts:
7. But still it's a question of numberi.
Now the lady takesup the refrain, Her voice falls like dust in the desert, From her clearly superior brain.
A. she sass, 'Soon they 'I be swamping our cultare, The cultore that made Britain great." What?
Nomore Henley? No Lords? No weekends shooting grouse With the Bake on his country estate?
9. A len in their place would be welcome.
But we can't have them coming in hondes.
And the wise ones assented in chorus.
Frum the Houses of Commonsand Lords.
1l. They differed on clauses and quotas, We what figure the in flew might reach.
But the blacks. they agreed, were the problem, And this was called: Freedoms of sprech.
1 declare that it woulda tbe right For me to put people in prison.
Just for sayine that black isn't while.
I2. If you're worried about immigration.
You must have the freedern to speuk.
But don't overuse words like "aiggers" and 'coons"
Say, not more than three tires in one week.
13. Because it's all a question of numbers, The wordsecho out far and wide.
And some spread them soft, like a smokescreen.
They're the ones with something fo hide. 1. The gentleman tulked, you remember. 14. And some spread them loud, like gang wurfare.
To the bear of the devil's own drum.
In the bead of a south down in Hosten.
They festertike weeds in aslum.
15. Hit's all a question af numbers, The feweribe better, it seems.
Hh mind » as a swamp of frustration, There were rivers of blood in his dreums 3/*We're hreeding a nation of half-castes: In. He yearned for thedays of war clors. When Englishnee fought the good light, Defending the while chifts of Dover.
So that ChrisM i would always be white.
I7. Son Britain was second di-iion When they eughi to be ruling the waves.
"They're taking our jobs and our homeland, he says.
These bastards we once sold as slaves."
. Inchurch, no Sunday, asasunt.
All nonet in their best shes were there. Tie judue, the gear wind the hidy soured high the The wings of a homo and a prayer. 19: Beotterhood wasthe Bishop'ssermon.
"AlFare equal hesmid, in Card'snight.
Andto Hima block skin doesn't mutter at ull, Aslonga-flic soul is white:
20. While the judge the gent and the lady Were prising for guidance and light.
The Hoston routh guthereda lynch-muh And they armed themselves well for the fight.
21. That evening they weat on the rampage, They were flying the Union Jack.
By thescreams of 'Send them all buck!' 22. The pupers were full of the story, There was no doubt at all where they stood.
"A spell in the armo for thugs,' wid the Mail.
•Would do them u poser of good.* 23. When the lady reud of the killings, Her face wus filled with destress. -The trouhle with our lower classes,' she said, 'Is they've got no bloody finese."
11. Free speech." said the judge, isntysermon. 24. "1 deplorethe barbarie behavior' The gentleman said, 'I ugree.
Well. I warned them thut this would be coming. But nobods listens to me.
25. The judge was severe in his sentence. Said. Your motives might be of the best,. But you not ondy set apon innocent Folk, You did it on God's day of rest.?
Now the gendleman dreams of a peerage, The lady of ruling the land, And who knows what the good judge is thinking, In his Club, with his port in hishand? And the cries of the beaten and dying were drow 27. Hut the Hexton youth's bitterly brooding, Just a number in his prison cell.
"Ho why are they giving us hell?
28. Yes. It's all a question of numbers.
The people who matter agree. *They suid we should cut down their mumbers.' he thinks But how many's too many, I wonder.
And that too many might inchude me.
29. Hut if il's reully a question of numbers Perhaps the solation might be To sweep up the judges, the ladies, the gents. And drop them all into the sea.
by Leon 3ll. Because if it's all a question of numbers I's cleur they should all play their part Let them swim off to some desert island, And get off our hacks for a start, And get off our backs for a start.
----- pull-quotes -----
Socialist Challent NO BAN NINA