Sons of the North

Written by Steve Milligan on 9th February 2025

Your son’s a number, love,

Limbs with no name

They took all he earned

To build a home for their slaves

And when his pot boiled over

And he burned down the place

They told us all he had it good

(Chorus)

You’ve got it good my friends,

You’ve got it good,

That’s what they say to your sons.

As your boys lose themselves

To a land they can’t love

The kings and their makers

Tell them they’ve got it good

Your son’s a labourer,

From dawn until doom

Tilling the dirt

For the feast of the fools

And when he heads home to choose

Between the bills and the noose

They tell us all he had it good

(Chorus)

Your son’s a spirit, love,

Sweet but naive

He thought that his tongue

Gave his thoughts space to breathe

Til he cried out a truth

And they crippled his speech

And told us all he had it good

(Chorus)