Pack up what you own,
and you dial up who you can phone,
and you save up all your pennies,
and we hope but, oh -- is there any --
and we wonder, oh, how can he put you out tonight?

Go back in your mind,
twenty years in time,
and we値l go a-walking through your garden;
see the trees you planted in your yard then.
All your work, it didn稚 seem so hard then,
but it痴 hard tonight.

Five years further on,
from the stage it looked like we壇 won,
but how many of those who heard you play
have gone their insouciant ways?
And the streets run bloody to this day,
and to your house tonight.

And we, still so touched,
can we offer you that much
more than those who you fought
and who left you with nought,
and who lied to you?
They lied to you,
They lied to you, lied to you, lied to you, lied to you
but this you always knew.

So pack up your bulls and smalls,
and we値l tack up your painting on our walls,
and we値l write down all our songs then,
and we値l right up all our wrongs then,
and we値l tear up the streets a million strong then,
in your name tonight.