Mark B

Sometimes I get to sing this song:

Orchard vs. Runway?

We ain’t gonna have no third runway round here

And if we stand together we’ve got nothing to fear

We’re gonna run this Camp on wind, wave and sun

And we might even have a little revolution

But we ain’t gonna have no more runways round here…

We all pay for your holiday heaven you know

That 747 is a murder weapon you know

Burning all this kerosene’s

Turning London into New Orleans

And your 747 is a murder weapon you know…

And we’re gonna shut that detention centre all the way down

We screw their countries and expect them to sit back and drown

Harmondsworth twinned with New Orleans

Let’s twin reality with our dreams

And we’re gonna tear those detention centres all the way down…

We ain’t gonna have no third runway round here

And if we stand together we’ve got nothing to fear

We’re gonna have a song, we’re gonna have a dance

And we’re gonna help Sipson have a fighting chance

And we ain’t gonna have no more runways round here

Pear trees, plum trees, maybe a Cox’s apple tree,

Back in the middle of the 19th century

You know it was orchards almost as far as the eye could see

Now concrete has the upper hand – temporarily

And injustice has the upper hand – temporarily

Pear trees, plum trees, maybe some olive trees

Could you bust up through the concrete runways please? 

Some seeds have a habit of lying dormant until the time is right

We are the seeds, we are the sky,

We are the concrete, don’t ask why

We are the water, we are the sun…

Coming out!

And we ain’t gonna have no more runways round here

And if we stand together we’ve got nothing to fear

We’ve gotta run the world on wind, wave and sun

And we’ve got to have a little revolution

If we ain’t gonna have any runways anywhere

And sometimes I get to sing this song:

LONDON REFUELLING 

London calling to the faraway towns

Now war is declared and battle come down

London calling – if terrorists is what we are

Let’s plant a seedbomb in the Home Secretary’s car

London calling before the world turns to dust

Get down to the Climate Camp and out of that Prius

London calling to the Thames Barrier

Here comes the hell and the high water

The ice age is coming, the sun’s zooming in

Meltdown expected, the wheat’s growing thin

From corporate terror, I have the fear

‘Cos London is drowning and I…live by the river!

London calling to the hordes at Heathrow

May I present you with your own ASBO:

Anti-Social Behaviour Overhead

Let’s make allotments of the runways before we’re all dead

London calling to Cameron and Brown

Spewing kerosene and plotting the ways for us to drown

London calling to stop the war by 4x4

Come skateboarders, cyclists, walkers - let’s not take it anymore

The ice age is coming, the sun’s zooming in

Meltdown expected, the wheat’s growing thin

Of nuclear error, I have the fear

‘Cos the uranium is leaking and I’m…starting to shiver!

London Calling to my daughter’s daughter’s son

I’m sorry mate, we did what we could – at least it came undone

You inherited a fiddle and a gun

At least there’s no power for your PlayStation

London calling ‘cos the planet’s in A&E

Though somewhere deep deep down I know we’ll all be free

The heatwave is coming, the sun’s zooming in

Meltdown expected, the wheat’s growing thin

From state-sponsored weather, I face my fear

‘Cos the sea level’s rising…

…the resistance is rising…

…the repression is rising…

'Cos London is drowning but my…spirit shall not wither