London is burning

London is burning, our city is red,
Red with the blood, the blood from our dead.
London is burning on the seventh of July,
Why do our friends our loved ones die?
Wicked and cruel, no justice for us,
A battlefield? no, a tube and a bus.
Have you no sorrow, no love like me?
What do you have where your heart should be?
London is burning, our city is red,
Red with the blood, the blood from our dead.