Fifty years of paper. Fifty years of ink. You told us we were partners. You pushed us to the brink. You wrote it in the record. A nation with a choice. But every time we stand up, you try to steal the voice. [Chorus] It is a voluntary union Until we want to leave You sold us out on paper With the tricks up your sleeve The promise was a padlock The signature a chain You published the illusion And left us in the rain [Verse 2] Nineteen-seventy, Labour made the vow. No English man would stop us, but look at Burnham now. The Iron Lady said it, the grey man read the line. No nation held against its will, until we cross the sign. [Chorus] It is a voluntary union Until we want to leave You sold us out on paper With the tricks up your sleeve The promise was a padlock The signature a chain You published the illusion And left us in the rain [Verse 3] The year was twenty-fourteen, power to the folk. But when the ballots settled, the promise was a joke. You filed it in the archives, a democratic right. Then you drag us to your courts, and shut out all the light. The supreme decree is spoken, the door is hammered shut. You ignore your own history, and leave us in the rut. [Chorus] It is a voluntary union Until we want to leave You sold us out on paper With the tricks up your sleeve The promise was a padlock The signature a chain You published the illusion And left us in the rain [Outro] The dirt is that you published it. And left the bloody mark. You wrote that we could walk away. But a captive is a captive. Fifty years of lies. ©2026 Trevor Swistchew and The Shady River Bard. All rights reserved.
