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The Poor Shall Wear the Crown: Songs by Leon Rosselson

by Nancy Kerr

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Little Dish Records no. LiDiCD 004

    Strictly limited edition of 1000 copies of 12-track CD. Songs by Leon Rosselson performed by Nancy Kerr, includes sleeve notes in accompanying digipak and booklet with photography by James Fagan and illustration/design by Lizzy Doe.

    Includes unlimited streaming of The Poor Shall Wear the Crown: Songs by Leon Rosselson via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 10 days
    edition of 1000 
    Purchasable with gift card

      £12 GBP or more 

     

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £10 GBP  or more

     

1.
The ant and the grasshopper, everyone knows how the story goes, How the ant was diligent, never spent Anything lightly, he laboured wisely, And gathered his store for tomorrow. As for the grasshopper, glad of the summer sunshine, Light as the wind on the broken water, His song he gave to the summer days, Singing, “Where the dance leads I'll follow.” Then came a hard winter, nothing grew, and the cold wind blew, But the ant was safe and sound, underground. Carefully counting his pile around him, Dividing his time until tomorrow. As for the grasshopper, blown by the north wind's fury, Hungering for the easy summer, Comes to the ant and says, “My brother, give me bread, Now's the dance that I must follow.” “Why did you waste the summer, summers don't last forever, You're just an idle beggar, you must pay the price, sacrifice. You would not heed me, you took life easy - Take the punishment that follows.” Now see the grasshopper reel like a dry leaf falling, Weaving a dance that will last forever, Back goes the ant to his nest to work, to feed, to rest, For him there will always be tomorrow.
2.
3.
He was one of those dogged old men Who live in the past, telling stories you don't want to know About how it was then, the hunger, the hardship The hopes and the struggles of so long ago And we must have looked bored, for like sparks from the cinders His eyes glowed with anger, his words seemed to burn He said, "I will be heard, for my life is not over- I've something to say yet, and you've something to learn" He said, "You, who have nothing at all to believe in Oh you, who's motto is 'money comes first,' Who are you to tell us that our lives have been wasted And all that we fought for has turned into dust?" I was only a lad, when we read that in Russia The workers, the Soviets, had taken all power And the man they called Lenin, who led them, was our inspiration His triumph was our finest hour And I'll always remember how fear shook the wealthy Like thieves who have just been caught out in their crime But we, who had known only war and the workhouse Rejoiced, as a new world was born at that time You can't know what it meant, and the pride that we felt To know working people, people like us Could shake off the shackles, could topple the palaces Remake the world without ruler or boss It was this kept us going, this dream of a new world Through all those dark years of defeat and despair When we who were proud to proclaim ourselves communists Fought for that world free from hunger and fear It was down with the means test, no cuts in our wages We want three pounds a week and the seven hour day! And there wasn't a thing that we got, but we fought for it Don't you know bosses give nothing away? And the strikes and the marches, the battles to beat off The bailiffs and coppers when hope was still young Hot heads and hot hearts, as we tested our power "The workers triumphant!" - that was our song For a time, he was silent, and lost in his memories Then, but more softly, his words came again - Perhaps we hoped for too much, perhaps the cost was too much There are things I know now that I couldn't know then We believed revolution was just round the corner And we were the vanguard to bring it about And the other left parties we classed as class traitors Bourgeois social fascists, of that we no doubt! And then the times changed, we campaigned for the popular front The old line might never have been But we led the workers in combating fascism Mosley in London and Franco in Spain We believed we were history's chosen And Soviet Russia, our future, our heart and our soul And the Five Year Plan was a vision of plenty For us who'd lived half of our lives on the dole We knew of the trials and purges of course And were shocked when we heard those old comrades confess But, yes, we defended the first worker's state In the face of the slander and lies of the press And you, who have nothing at all to believe in Oh you, who's motto is 'money comes first,' Who are you to tell us that our lives have been wasted And all that we fought for has turned into dust? You may think we were duped, well we paid for our dreams- Broken lives, broken marriages, jobs lost and jail Some lost heart and left, some betrayed us for medals There are always some turncoats who's souls are for sale But the best of us never surrendered our vision And we kept the faith through the bleakest defeat Do you think that was easy, surrounded by hatred The sneer of indifference, the hurt of deceit? And our lives were made rich by the cause that we fought for The friendship the fellowship, sharing one aim To transform society, end exploitation And that day will come yet, but not in my time Again he was silent, and what could we tell him? That the world now was different, that he'd had his day? That an old man's dreams were not our concern? But still, there was something he wanted to say- Now when I look back, I see what we fought against- Homelessness, hunger, injustice and war But what did we fight for? What dream did we strive for? I used to know once, now I'm no longer sure But you, who have nothing at all to believe in Oh you, who's motto is 'money comes first,' Who are you to tell us that our lives have been wasted And all that we fought for has turned into dust? He was one of those lonely old men Who lived in the past, telling stories you don't want to know About how it was then, the hunger, the hardship The hopes and the struggles of so long ago
4.
Susie 07:12
5.
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8.
If the sons of company directors, And judges' private daughters, Had to go to school in a slum school, Dumped by some joker in a damp back alley, Had to herd into classrooms cramped with worry, With a view onto slagheaps and stagnant pools, Had to file through corridors grey with age, And play in a crackpot concrete cage. Chorus (repeated after each verse): Buttons would be pressed, Rules would be broken. Strings would be pulled And magic words spoken. Invisible fingers would mould Palaces of gold. If prime ministers and advertising executives, Royal personages and bank managers' wives Had to live out their lives in dank rooms, Blinded by smoke and the foul air of sewers. Rot on the walls and rats in the cellars, In rows of dumb houses like mouldering tombs. Had to bring up their children and watch them grow In a wasteland of dead streets where nothing will grow. I'm not suggesting any kind of a plot, Everyone knows there's not, But you unborn millions might like to be warned That if you don't want to be buried alive by slagheaps, Pit-falls and damp walls and rat-traps and dead streets, Arrange to be democratically born The son of a company director Or a judge's fine and private daughter.
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11.
Why does it have to be me Why can't they just let me be Why do I have to do things I don't want to do Why does it have to be me Each morning I lie in my bed Slippery dreams in my head I live in a fine fairy castle of stone, All on my own, no-one to moan Then a voice shouts get up and it isn't a dream Hurry-up you're late for school and wash your face and brush your teeth and are your fingers clean And it goes on and on 'till I'm ready to scream Why does it have to be me? Why do I have to eat greens Cabbage and spinach and beans I don't mind potatoes, I'll even have meat Though I'd much rather eat Ice-cream and sweets They say greens are good for me, maybe they're right But sometimes I think that they do it for spite And I've never seen them eating what they don't like So why does it have to be me Now why can't I play my own games Somebody always complains Whenever I'm playing at monsters or bears Jumping off chairs, falling down stairs It's don't be so noisy, or go out and play Or look for a book if you're going to stay But the problem is they always get in my way So why does it have to be me?
12.

credits

released December 26, 2021

Nancy Kerr: Voice, Guitar, Violin, Viola, Piano
Harry Fagan: Voice on track 11

Engineered and Produced by Tom A Wright at Powered Flight Music and Yellow Arch Studios, Sheffield, UK
Mastered by Nick Cooke
Design and illustration by Lizzy Doe
Photography by James Fagan, Ron Elliott and Findlay Napier

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Nancy Kerr Sheffield, UK

Folk Singer of the Year BBC Folk Awards 2015

"Outstanding chamber folk" (The Guardian) "Folk's Poet Laureate" (FRUK) "One of the UK’s foremost composers of modern folk and social commentary songs” (Royal Shakespeare Company).

Photo credits: James Fagan, Elly Lucas
Album design: Lizzy Doe
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