WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED

Outlaw country, Mississippi Delta blues, traditional Irish folk, Portuguese fado

V6-MINI

[Intro — Solo gravelly male voice, fingerpicked acoustic guitar, distant harmonica]

I've seen the factories close their doors,
I've seen the rich buy up the land,
I've seen good men sleeping on the floor,
While suits shake hands and make their plans.

There's a fiddle crying through the rain,
A fado voice beneath the moon,
An old blues man singing through his pain,
And a country heart that's breaking too.

[Verse 1 — Slow, earthy blues with acoustic guitar]

My daddy worked until his hands were stone,
My mother made a little go a long way,
We never had much we could call our own,
But we had enough to face another day.

Now the rent climbs higher than the steeple,
The lights go out along the street,
They sell our fear back to the people,
While they feast on what we cannot eat.

[Pre-Chorus — Irish fiddle enters, rising vocal]

They tell the north to hate the south,
They tell the young to blame the old,
They put a lie in every mouth,
Then sell the cure for stolen gold.

[Chorus — Full band, gang vocals, stomping rhythm]

**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
Not by the flag, nor the colour of skin!
**WE SHALL NOT BE SILENCED!**
Not while there's a fight left in us within!

From the green hills down to the ocean,
From the old world's streets to the wide-open plains,
We are more than their fear and commotion,
More than the borders they draw with our pain!

**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
You can break our backs, but you won't break our bond!
**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
We are the many — and we still belong!

[Verse 2 — Portuguese guitar and mournful fiddle, fado-inflected vocal]

There's a woman singing saudade,
Of a home she had to leave behind,
There's an old man in a Dublin doorway,
With a lifetime written in his eyes.

There's a farmer watching rain-soaked fields,
There's a miner coughing in the cold,
There's a nurse who gives what little she can yield,
While the powerful keep buying what was sold.

And somewhere down a country highway,
A tired trucker fights to stay awake,
We all carry sorrow in our own way,
We all know how much a heart can take.

[Verse 3 — Driving country drums, blues guitar riff]

They call us angry, call us backwards,
Call us trouble when we ask what's fair,
They build their towers, build their empires,
Then tell us there's no money left to spare.

They turn our neighbours into strangers,
Turn our grief into a voting game,
Point at the desperate, point at the danger,
Anything to keep the powerful unashamed.

But I have seen a thousand hands
Lift a stranger from the ground,
I've seen the strongest walls come down
When ordinary folks stood their ground.

[Pre-Chorus — Fiddle and guitar build, voices gathering]

So let them talk in gilded chambers,
Let them preach their cold divide,
There is no future in our hatred,
There is no freedom on our knees tonight!

[Chorus — Bigger, raw gang vocals]

**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
Not by the flag, nor the colour of skin!
**WE SHALL NOT BE SILENCED!**
Not while there's a fight left in us within!

From the green hills down to the ocean,
From the old world's streets to the wide-open plains,
We are more than their fear and commotion,
More than the borders they draw with our pain!

**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
You can break our backs, but you won't break our bond!
**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
We are the many — and we still belong!

[Bridge — Instruments drop away; solo voice, mournful Portuguese guitar]

I don't need you to pray like me,
I don't need you to share my name,
I just need you to stand beside me
When they come to sell our lives for gain.

Let the Irish raise their voices,
Let the Portuguese guitar strings cry,
Let the blues roll down the valley,
Let the country fiddle testify.

We have buried friends and brothers,
We have watched our children leave,
But we will not turn on each other
For the scraps they let us keep.

[Instrumental Break — Blues guitar solo, Irish fiddle answering, Portuguese guitar ornaments, stomping country rhythm; brief and raw]

[Final Chorus — Maximum intensity, crowd singalong]

**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
Not by their hatred, not by their lies!
**WE SHALL NOT BE SILENCED!**
You can chain our hands, but you can't chain our minds!

From the green hills down to the ocean,
From the city streets to the fields of grain,
We will rise with a common devotion:
No more fear, no more masters of pain!

**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
Let the whole damn world hear the sound!
**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**
You can push us down — we'll rise from the ground!

[Outro — Gang vocals over fading acoustic guitar and fiddle]

One heart. One voice.
One chance to make things right.

No more enemies among the people.
No more surrender to the night.

**WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!**

*(A final rough, unaccompanied voice)*

Not while we're alive.

4779/7500

[Intro — Solo gravelly male voice, fingerpicked acoustic guitar, distant harmonica] I've seen the factories close their doors, I've seen the rich buy up the land, I've seen good men sleeping on the floor, While suits shake hands and make their plans. There's a fiddle crying through the rain, A fado voice beneath the moon, An old blues man singing through his pain, And a country heart that's breaking too. [Verse 1 — Slow, earthy blues with acoustic guitar] My daddy worked until his hands were stone, My mother made a little go a long way, We never had much we could call our own, But we had enough to face another day. Now the rent climbs higher than the steeple, The lights go out along the street, They sell our fear back to the people, While they feast on what we cannot eat. [Pre-Chorus — Irish fiddle enters, rising vocal] They tell the north to hate the south, They tell the young to blame the old, They put a lie in every mouth, Then sell the cure for stolen gold. [Chorus — Full band, gang vocals, stomping rhythm] **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** Not by the flag, nor the colour of skin! **WE SHALL NOT BE SILENCED!** Not while there's a fight left in us within! From the green hills down to the ocean, From the old world's streets to the wide-open plains, We are more than their fear and commotion, More than the borders they draw with our pain! **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** You can break our backs, but you won't break our bond! **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** We are the many — and we still belong! [Verse 2 — Portuguese guitar and mournful fiddle, fado-inflected vocal] There's a woman singing saudade, Of a home she had to leave behind, There's an old man in a Dublin doorway, With a lifetime written in his eyes. There's a farmer watching rain-soaked fields, There's a miner coughing in the cold, There's a nurse who gives what little she can yield, While the powerful keep buying what was sold. And somewhere down a country highway, A tired trucker fights to stay awake, We all carry sorrow in our own way, We all know how much a heart can take. [Verse 3 — Driving country drums, blues guitar riff] They call us angry, call us backwards, Call us trouble when we ask what's fair, They build their towers, build their empires, Then tell us there's no money left to spare. They turn our neighbours into strangers, Turn our grief into a voting game, Point at the desperate, point at the danger, Anything to keep the powerful unashamed. But I have seen a thousand hands Lift a stranger from the ground, I've seen the strongest walls come down When ordinary folks stood their ground. [Pre-Chorus — Fiddle and guitar build, voices gathering] So let them talk in gilded chambers, Let them preach their cold divide, There is no future in our hatred, There is no freedom on our knees tonight! [Chorus — Bigger, raw gang vocals] **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** Not by the flag, nor the colour of skin! **WE SHALL NOT BE SILENCED!** Not while there's a fight left in us within! From the green hills down to the ocean, From the old world's streets to the wide-open plains, We are more than their fear and commotion, More than the borders they draw with our pain! **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** You can break our backs, but you won't break our bond! **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** We are the many — and we still belong! [Bridge — Instruments drop away; solo voice, mournful Portuguese guitar] I don't need you to pray like me, I don't need you to share my name, I just need you to stand beside me When they come to sell our lives for gain. Let the Irish raise their voices, Let the Portuguese guitar strings cry, Let the blues roll down the valley, Let the country fiddle testify. We have buried friends and brothers, We have watched our children leave, But we will not turn on each other For the scraps they let us keep. [Instrumental Break — Blues guitar solo, Irish fiddle answering, Portuguese guitar ornaments, stomping country rhythm; brief and raw] [Final Chorus — Maximum intensity, crowd singalong] **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** Not by their hatred, not by their lies! **WE SHALL NOT BE SILENCED!** You can chain our hands, but you can't chain our minds! From the green hills down to the ocean, From the city streets to the fields of grain, We will rise with a common devotion: No more fear, no more masters of pain! **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** Let the whole damn world hear the sound! **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** You can push us down — we'll rise from the ground! [Outro — Gang vocals over fading acoustic guitar and fiddle] One heart. One voice. One chance to make things right. No more enemies among the people. No more surrender to the night. **WE SHALL NOT BE DIVIDED!** *(A final rough, unaccompanied voice)* Not while we're alive.

0/500