Whining juvenile lust songs or illiterate screams through the shredding speaker cones just don't do it for me. My country of birth given away cheaply to enemies worse than those we defeated in war. Songs for our times? They've maybe still to be written but here's one I found earlier.
Lyrics
See the Anglii in your face,
that seeded and grew in this land.
Home now you kneel and kiss the sand
'Cos you're the winner of the race.
See them sitting in the dark.
Two thousand years dripping rain,
always struggle, burning toil and pain.
But they're the winners of the race.
By boat and by plane they came.
Thieves in the night, as of old,
Age-old right to drop 'em stone cold.
And still be winner of the race.
In every corner strangers.
If you are not for you and yours,
Who's gonna respect you in the wars?
And still be winner of the race.
Chorus
Some hate you, steal your dreams.
Tell me if you're gonna take it?
Find yourselves, live your dreams.
Tell me if you're gonna take it?
Not you! 'Cos you're the winner of the race.
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