ENOCH falls upon the wooden frame. To smash, to destroy is its common aim.
The hammer heavy in the Luddite hand, but with every blow he is in command.
The clouds are dark upon that moor and though it is day, the light is poor.
The leaders of the frames are afraid and run, fearing their lives will soon be done.
The hammer falls it strikes a blow so quick. The sound it makes is heavy and thick
Soon the machines lay mashed and broken, there’s more to smash, this is not a token.
If it was 1812 I would be a Luddite
I would have taken up the fight, smashing cropping machines with all my might.
Attacking mills in the dead of night, yes the owners would have felt my bite.
I would have taken that solemn oath to defend the faith, to run the Luddite race.
And dispatch the traitor into outer space.
I would have looked Parson Roberson in the eye. “Can you keep a secret?’’
“Of course my son!” “Well so can I!’’
I would have attacked the masters, overseers and all their minions.
Treading upon them and their vile opinions.
I would have shot William Horsfall, riding up his girths in Luddite blood.
But like George Mellor, I would have been dispatched for good.
If it was 1812 I would be a Luddite.
But now it is 2012
My computer is down, I wear a frown.
This is the fourth time today, it has let me down.
Just like young Ned Lud, anger raises within
And just like Ned, I cannot hold it in.
And like the machines on Heartshead Moor, Enoch is raised as I settle the score.
The hammer comes down on the confounded machine. And splits and breaks into smithereens.
But now I am no longer angry Ned Lud.
But I am cool and calm, I am general Lud.
My aim is to smash every vile machine. My actions will soon be seen.
As everyone I will physically smash, as progress stops and turns to ash.
And so we are back to square one. The fight against the masters was never won.
Now as then, their plan is spun. They hold stacked cards against everyone.
Whether poor law or minimum wage, it’s the rich treading on the poor in every age.
As prices rocket and jobs are lost we look around and count the cost
As more misery takes its toll less and less can claim the dole.
Unity and solidarity, now a thing of the past. Unions lay emasculated and trashed.
The rights once fought for by our ancestors past, letting the owners win out at last.
But it is not the machines that we should blame.
But the idea behind it and its typical aim.
To turn the screw and have free rain.
To make a profit and capital gain.
For those so few who exploit the many.
Get your hands off you can’t have any.
It is 2012 and I am a Luddite.