I was crucified in Tarsau
and again close by Hintoc -
I was whipped along the River Valley Road;
I was driven pierced and bleeding,
With a million maggots feeding
on the body that I carried for my load.
Yet my heart was still unbroken
and my hopes were still unquenched,
‘til I love my cross to blighty thro’ a crowd.
Soldiers stabbed me on that road.
But at home, I dropped my load
When politicians broke my legs and made
At Westminster my poor body,
Wrapped in linen of fine words,
was perfumed with their sweetly-scented lies,
and they laid me in the tomb,
of their golden-mirrored room,
with the other lads who had refused to die.
Bill Duncan. Died 1968.