We’re the first ones to starve, we’re the first ones to die

The first ones in line for that pie in the sky

And we’re always the last when the cream is shared out

For the worker is working when the fat cat’s about

And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war

Who’s given a gun and then pushed to the fore

And expected to die for the land of our birth

Though we’ve never owned one lousy handful of earth