Following in the footsteps of our forefathers
Whose Jarrow-built ships plied the oceans.
Trading, they brought wealth to a few.
We are many.
Unemployed, with no hope of a future.
The clash of hob-nails on cobbles
Echoes down the years.
We are marching.
I am the spark of the nail on stone.
But I do not stand alone.
A million others are behind me,
We cry out for change.
All we ask are decent jobs;
The right to educate ourselves.
All these years of “progress” – for what?
We demand answers.
But softer than our words,
The poles of the old banner creak,
The gossamer breeze sighs
A lament for half-remembered heroes.
We will not forget.
Northern thunder marches on London,
Voices raised for jobs and socialism,
To save services and defend communities.
We are the youth, fighting for our future.