Lyrics Gladiators - Andy Irvine
I'll
tell
you
all
a
story
that
perhaps
you
do
not
know
It
all
happened
in
Australia
quite
some
time
ago
I'll
tell
you
of
Tom
Barker
from
Westmoreland
he
came
From
an
early
age
he
knew
that
he
was
born
to
Fan
the
Flames
Many
in
their
youth
and
prime
they
left
their
own
backyard
Back
before
the
First
World
War
when
times
were
tough
and
hard
By
boat
and
train
and
road
they
came
tired
legs
and
blistered
feet
And
they
wound
up
here
in
Sydney
on
Castlereagh
Street.
Gladiators
of
the
Working
Class,
heroes
of
mine
Who
travelled
down
this
dark
road
long
before
my
time
Your
actions
and
the
words
you
spoke
are
shining
in
my
mind
As
I'm
blowing
down
this
old
dusty
road.
Tom
Glynn
and
Peter
Larkin
they
came
from
Erin's
Shore
There
was
Jack
Hamilton
and
J.B.
King,
Charlie
Reeve
and
many
more
And
Donald
Grant
I
see
him
still
in
the
Sydney
Domain
Where
Sunday
after
Sunday
thousands
thrilled
as
he
proclaimed
"O
the
men
who
made
this
Empire
they
made
it
for
the
few
"Who
feast
upon
the
profits
of
the
labours
that
we
do
"And
now
they
want
the
working
man
to
fight
for
them
as
well
"Let
those
who
own
this
Empire
go
and
fight
for
it
themselves"
Gladiators
of
the
Working
Class,
heroes
of
mine
Who
travelled
down
this
dark
road
long
before
my
time
Your
actions
and
the
words
you
spoke
are
shining
in
my
mind
As
I'm
blowing
down
this
old
dusty
road.
Prime
Minister
Billy
Hughes
that
"Little
Digger"
sod
He
was
elected
by
the
workers
and
he
thought
that
he
was
God
Says
he
for
the
mines
in
Broken
Hill
and
the
Queensland
shearing
sheds
We'll
introduce
Conscription
and
get
rid
of
all
these
Reds
O
Billy
was
astonished
when
the
Referendum
failed
He
rounded
up
the
Wobblies
and
he
filled
up
all
his
jails
With
all
the
wealth
and
all
his
might
he
made
a
pretty
show
But
he
couldn't
get
away
with
it
when
the
People
voted
NO.
Gladiators
of
the
Working
Class,
heroes
of
mine
Who
travelled
down
this
dark
road
long
before
my
time
Your
actions
and
the
words
you
spoke
are
shining
in
my
mind
As
I'm
blowing
down
this
old
dusty
road.
A
cartoon
in
the
Wobbly
paper
it
had
it
cut
and
dried
It
showed
the
rich
man
raking
in
the
loot
and
the
soldier
crucified
And
the
editor
he
was
thrown
in
jail
and
the
working
folks
agreed
That
they'd
kick
up
bloody
murder
till
they
saw
Tom
Barker
freed.
And
the
Sydney
Twelve
stood
trial
when
some
buildings
were
burned
down
And
the
evidence
it
was
stitched
up
by
Detectives
for
the
Crown
And
the
brainless
brutal
jury
found
them
guilty
with
a
leer
And
the
Judge
says
I'll
be
lenient
and
give
you
ten
to
fifteen
years.
Tom
Barker
was
deported
to
Chile
was
sent
away
Where
he
promptly
organised
the
docks
in
Valparaiso
Bay
And
he
wound
up
in
London
where
the
people
made
him
Mayor
And
upon
St
Pancras
Town
Hall
he
raised
the
Red
Flag
there.
He
sneaked
back
into
Sydney
in
the
year
of
'32
And
he
watched
the
Anzac
Day
parade
and
his
prophecies
come
true
For
these
Heroes
in
their
shabby
clothes
who
fought
the
Hun
and
Turk
Had
come
home
to
find
that
all
they'd
won
was
a
lifetime
of
no
work.
Gladiators
of
the
Working
Class,
Heroes
of
mine
If
we
only
had
Tom
Barker
here
in
all
his
youth
and
prime
His
actions
and
the
words
he
spoke
are
shining
in
my
mind
As
I'm
blowing
down
this
old
dusty
road.
I
stood
at
the
foot
of
your
grave
Tom
Glynn
here
in
Botany
Bay
In
the
shadow
of
Long
Bay
jail
where
they
locked
you
all
away
And
I
made
a
vow
to
your
memory
as
I
stood
on
your
burial
ground
That
I'd
write
this
song
and
I'd
sing
it
in
your
native
Galway
town.
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