Цена 1 часа рабочей силы, как правило снижается.

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ДОЛГИХ ЛЕТ / ТЕРРИТОРИИ / Великобритания / Ned Ludd /

Sung to the traditional tune "The Cutty Wren"

Ned Ludd

by Theo Simon

Oh where are you going? Says Miller to Morger
We may not tell you, says Johnoson to Judd
We're going it mill, says Jack to our Jill,
We're going to the factory, says little Ned Ludd

And what will you do there? Says Miller to Monger
D'ye swear to tell no one? Says Jonson to Judd
We'll break the machinery, imprave the scenery,
Meet in the greenery  abster, says Ludd 

And haw will you break' em? Says Miller to Monger
Stick with us-we'll Shaw you? says Johnson to Judd
With pikes and with hammers, with fire and sparres,
To teach'em some manners, says General Ludd

Cos adif we don't break'em our new they will take'em
Our craft, our cottage, our village as well - 
No freedom or laughter for those who come after
But Servart and Master in a factory hell

So the door was Kiked in - and the frames were all broken
And the owner was waken and raised the alarm,
And the yeoman came riding but we were in hiding,
The people previding to keep us from hurm...

From Nett up to Larcashire, Yorkshire to Derbyshire,
Eighteen eleven to eighteen thirteen,
Ludd's army enlisted, and the people resisted
The march of the more-many-making machine... 

Haw new shall we stop it? Says Owner to Ruler,
With spies and with soldiers, says Tay to Whig.
We'll hang every breaker and Luddite catch-taker,
Transport trouble-makers, - and that's what they did.

Fourteen, hang on a beam,
Ugliest justice that you've ever seen,
Fifty in all, who took a long fall-
In the rising, against the machines

And that made a way for the Age of Wage Slavery,
Hungered and homeless and bawed to the boss
Whose factories killed them and crippled their children,
And all for the warship of profit of loss.

Some call it futility - they say the future will be
What the engine of progress demands 
But Ludd called humanity back to reality
We weare our destiny with our own hands!

All hands that are ready to hold a line steady
To pull down the fences, or pull up a crop
Unlock the loberatery, build a home in the tree-tops
Till the driving and ariving has stepped - STOP!
          
And some call us Vandals, and some call us Hodiogns
Some call us Luddites, and some Rent-a-mob
But were stading up preud, and we're sheuting out icud,
For the sake of our family, let's finish this job. 

And when the jobs done and the long wars are over,
And we've all recovered the love in our blood,
Our ancestars vaices will join our rejaicing
And sing to the memory of General Ludd!