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Big respect
to the lady of number 28
Winckley Square, just off Fishergate
First name Edith, followed by Rigby
She threw black puddings so women would be free
Dissin' the life of cream teas and lace
Instead she went and burned down the place
Of soaps Mr Big, a guy called Lever
Yeah, things got hot with the Suffragette fever
Kicked off by those chicks- Pankhurst and her posse
The wanted the Vote and had got kinda bossy
Along with Edith, they were the women of the hour
The could teach Posh a thing or two about Girl Power
[Chorus]
She might have been right
She might have been wrong
She got her chauffeur to drive her there
To burn down that house on Rivington Pike
A Suffragette lived in Winckley Square
Circa Georgie the fifth, if you were a
lass
You had few rights, you were 2nd Class
Told what to do or chained to the sink
So Edith decided as she sat in Winckley
Square, she'd strike a Suffragette blow
She'd make a bomb, board a train and go
To Liverpool, to the Exchange of Cotton
And show those guys she thought they were rotten
But don't worry,
it was just a large banger
No one was killed so they didn't hang her
Thrown into jail for her feminist deeds
On hunger strike she had the force-feeds
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