Written from the point of view of an immigrant arriving and settling in England after being invited to help rebuild the British economy following the devastation of the Second World War. Also after having volunteered (as thousands did from the former colonies) to help and fight in the British Army against the threat of fascism from Germany. How ironic that many of these immigrants would later find themselves in a struggle against the same ignorance, intolerance and racism they where once united against, in the very country they fought alongside and indeed for. In 1940 the war it came, 10,000 volunteers laid claim Their motherland for to defend, the pleasant lands of England We left Jamaica far behind for the sky, the trench, the battlefield Five long years we fought the fascist from the shores of England With the Royal Air Force I did fly, proud and strong to defend the sky Had to watch as good friends died high above the lands of England The war came to an end one day and home we returned again A harder living waiting there far from the shores of England In 48 she called again, for employment here there are no men The Windrush sailed us off to work the factories and the steel mills This time there came no welcome hand, our hopes and expectations fell To the hands of the Ratman's living hell in the dirty slums of England Believe it or not I saw the signs hung upon the door No Blacks No Dogs No Irish, Is this what we had fought for? I've worked hard all my life to pay my own and my family’s way Seems I can´t do right here anyway, I wish that I was home And now with no way home at all I'm forced to stay and brave the storm Of ignorance and bigotry in the pleasant lands of England Now a generation's passed, will we be accepted here at last We fought together, white and black, for the pleasant lands of England When sweet fortune comes my way I will pack my bags and rue the day I left the sunshine for to stay in the pleasant lands of England