Another anthem worth reading and listening to. Not precisely or exactly about liberty, but closely connected.
As readers probably know, Amelia is a goth, purple-haired, mini-skirt-wearing AI avatar originally created by a British NGO (with lots of G [government] involvement, to be sure]. She was intended to be a tactic of propaganda to win young people to support His Majesty’s Woke government and all the things it (and predecessors during EIIR’s reign) pushes.
Instead, she has become a mascot of the “Far, Extreme Right” – those opposed to the growing totalitarian government, to the more and more uncontrolled (and uncontrollable), unintegrated immigrant population from the Commonwealth and elsewhere, and to the denial of traditional (and mostly God-given) liberties of Englishmen, Welshmen, Scots, and both Orange and Green Irish.
This guest commentary was just published (listen here as you read the words).
A deep emotional gothic pop anthem about Britain, identity, history, and refusing to give up on our home. Inspired by the strength of the British spirit, Magna Carta, our history, our people, and the feeling that no matter how dark things get… Britain still stands.
This is Version 1 of the song. The full cinematic version with an official video is currently being worked on. This upload is a sneak peek at the song and the emotion behind it before the larger project releases.
LYRICS
[Intro] We remember… Every stone beneath our feet… Every name written into the soil… This is our home… It feels like the government is giving our land away… Well, we are not going away… this is our home… And we will not surrender.
[Verse 1] They can sneer at the flags in our windows tonight, Mock the blood of the builders who stood here and died, But this land was not gifted by kings dressed in gold, It was carved out by hand in the freezing cold. From the cliffs of Dover to Yorkshire rain, Generations carried Britain through fire and pain, And the ghosts of the brave still walk these streets, In the thunder of boots and cathedral beats. Magna Carta still breathes in the backbone of men, A promise no tyrant could bury back then, That no ruler stands higher than law in this land, That freedom was written by trembling hands. Our fathers bled in the mud for this shore, So tell me what all of their sacrifice was for? To watch our own people afraid to speak free? No… that is not the Britain I see.
[Chorus] We will not surrender, we are British, Our hearts still burn beneath the dark, You can wound the lion, bruise and scar him, But you will never stop his heart. This is our home, our blood, our history, These streets still carry our names, And if Britain falls then where do we go? No… we will not walk away. We will not surrender. We are British.
[Verse 2] Now mothers hold daughters too close at night, Checking their phones till the morning light, While young lads bleed beneath flickering lamps, Another siren screaming through council flats. And the papers spin lies while the people just cope, Selling cheap words while we’re losing hope, The suits in Westminster talk down to the crowd, Then call us hateful for speaking aloud. The Fabian smiles hide cold machine eyes, Dressed up in slogans and polished lies, Turning neighbours to numbers, traditions to shame, Trying to make us forget our own name. But we’re tired now… tired to the bone, Of feeling like strangers inside our own home, Tired of silence, tired of fear, Tired of pretending everything’s fine here. Still the old pubs sing under blackened skies, Still St George survives when the pressure rises, And every patriot heartbeat pounds like drums, Warning the powerful… we’re not done.
[Chorus] We will not surrender, we are British, Our hearts still burn beneath the dark, You can wound the lion, bruise and scar him, But you will never stop his heart. This is our home, our blood, our history, These streets still carry our names, And if Britain falls then where do we go? No… we will not walk away. We will not surrender. We are British.
[Bridge] You can tear down statues… But not memory. You can poison classrooms… But not family. You can sneer at faith… But not belief. And you will never break the spirit beneath our feet. Because Britain is not parliament walls, Not parties, not crowns, not televised calls, Britain is people who still stand tall, Even when they tried to make them crawl.
[Verse 3] So now hear the roar growing louder again, From forgotten towns and exhausted men, From women who carry this country through pain, From every patriot rising again. We are done kneeling just to survive, Done apologising for being alive, Done watching our homeland fade into grey, While cowards tell us to look away. No more. Because this island raised warriors from storms, We endure, we rebuild, we reform, And the fire inside us was never erased, It was sleeping beneath the ash all this time. Britain is ours and we’re holding the line, With every church bell and every skyline, And if they ask where the British spirit has gone… Tell them it’s standing right here. Holding on.
[Final Chorus] We will not surrender, we are British, And the lion wakes tonight, Through every scar and every heartbreak, We are still prepared to fight. For our children, for our fathers, For the land beneath the rain, And no matter how they try to break us, Britain will rise again. We will not surrender… We are British.
[Outro] So raise the flag high in the cold night air… Hold your loved ones close… And remember… Home is worth fighting for.
Home and liberty cannot be separated and either survive for long.
We pray for British liberty almost as much as we do for the liberty of our home States and the rest of the American union.
Follower of Christ Jesus (a christian), Pahasapan (resident of the Black Hills), Westerner, Lover of Liberty, Free-Market Anarchist, Engineer, Army Officer, Husband, Father, Historian, Writer, Evangelist. Successor to Lady Susan (Mama Liberty) at TPOL.
Is there hope? For England, Scotland… and US?
Another anthem worth reading and listening to. Not precisely or exactly about liberty, but closely connected.
As readers probably know, Amelia is a goth, purple-haired, mini-skirt-wearing AI avatar originally created by a British NGO (with lots of G [government] involvement, to be sure]. She was intended to be a tactic of propaganda to win young people to support His Majesty’s Woke government and all the things it (and predecessors during EIIR’s reign) pushes.
Instead, she has become a mascot of the “Far, Extreme Right” – those opposed to the growing totalitarian government, to the more and more uncontrolled (and uncontrollable), unintegrated immigrant population from the Commonwealth and elsewhere, and to the denial of traditional (and mostly God-given) liberties of Englishmen, Welshmen, Scots, and both Orange and Green Irish.
This guest commentary was just published (listen here as you read the words).
A deep emotional gothic pop anthem about Britain, identity, history, and refusing to give up on our home. Inspired by the strength of the British spirit, Magna Carta, our history, our people, and the feeling that no matter how dark things get… Britain still stands.
This is Version 1 of the song. The full cinematic version with an official video is currently being worked on. This upload is a sneak peek at the song and the emotion behind it before the larger project releases.
LYRICS
[Intro] We remember… Every stone beneath our feet… Every name written into the soil… This is our home… It feels like the government is giving our land away… Well, we are not going away… this is our home… And we will not surrender.
[Verse 1] They can sneer at the flags in our windows tonight, Mock the blood of the builders who stood here and died, But this land was not gifted by kings dressed in gold, It was carved out by hand in the freezing cold. From the cliffs of Dover to Yorkshire rain, Generations carried Britain through fire and pain, And the ghosts of the brave still walk these streets, In the thunder of boots and cathedral beats. Magna Carta still breathes in the backbone of men, A promise no tyrant could bury back then, That no ruler stands higher than law in this land, That freedom was written by trembling hands. Our fathers bled in the mud for this shore, So tell me what all of their sacrifice was for? To watch our own people afraid to speak free? No… that is not the Britain I see.
[Chorus] We will not surrender, we are British, Our hearts still burn beneath the dark, You can wound the lion, bruise and scar him, But you will never stop his heart. This is our home, our blood, our history, These streets still carry our names, And if Britain falls then where do we go? No… we will not walk away. We will not surrender. We are British.
[Verse 2] Now mothers hold daughters too close at night, Checking their phones till the morning light, While young lads bleed beneath flickering lamps, Another siren screaming through council flats. And the papers spin lies while the people just cope, Selling cheap words while we’re losing hope, The suits in Westminster talk down to the crowd, Then call us hateful for speaking aloud. The Fabian smiles hide cold machine eyes, Dressed up in slogans and polished lies, Turning neighbours to numbers, traditions to shame, Trying to make us forget our own name. But we’re tired now… tired to the bone, Of feeling like strangers inside our own home, Tired of silence, tired of fear, Tired of pretending everything’s fine here. Still the old pubs sing under blackened skies, Still St George survives when the pressure rises, And every patriot heartbeat pounds like drums, Warning the powerful… we’re not done.
[Chorus] We will not surrender, we are British, Our hearts still burn beneath the dark, You can wound the lion, bruise and scar him, But you will never stop his heart. This is our home, our blood, our history, These streets still carry our names, And if Britain falls then where do we go? No… we will not walk away. We will not surrender. We are British.
[Bridge] You can tear down statues… But not memory. You can poison classrooms… But not family. You can sneer at faith… But not belief. And you will never break the spirit beneath our feet. Because Britain is not parliament walls, Not parties, not crowns, not televised calls, Britain is people who still stand tall, Even when they tried to make them crawl.
[Verse 3] So now hear the roar growing louder again, From forgotten towns and exhausted men, From women who carry this country through pain, From every patriot rising again. We are done kneeling just to survive, Done apologising for being alive, Done watching our homeland fade into grey, While cowards tell us to look away. No more. Because this island raised warriors from storms, We endure, we rebuild, we reform, And the fire inside us was never erased, It was sleeping beneath the ash all this time. Britain is ours and we’re holding the line, With every church bell and every skyline, And if they ask where the British spirit has gone… Tell them it’s standing right here. Holding on.
[Final Chorus] We will not surrender, we are British, And the lion wakes tonight, Through every scar and every heartbreak, We are still prepared to fight. For our children, for our fathers, For the land beneath the rain, And no matter how they try to break us, Britain will rise again. We will not surrender… We are British.
[Outro] So raise the flag high in the cold night air… Hold your loved ones close… And remember… Home is worth fighting for.
Home and liberty cannot be separated and either survive for long.
We pray for British liberty almost as much as we do for the liberty of our home States and the rest of the American union.
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About TPOL Nathan
Follower of Christ Jesus (a christian), Pahasapan (resident of the Black Hills), Westerner, Lover of Liberty, Free-Market Anarchist, Engineer, Army Officer, Husband, Father, Historian, Writer, Evangelist. Successor to Lady Susan (Mama Liberty) at TPOL.