1. |
Striking Miners' Lament
02:22
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We may shout words that are abuse,
You think we're silly and what's the use?
And if the time comes then what would you do?
Be on the picket line or join the dole queue?
It's a striking miner's lament,
It's a striking miner's lament.
Listen to me you boys in blue,
You all try to stop me, that's what you do.
I'm only trying to talk but you get rough,
And if you get hurt well that's just tough.
It's a striking miner's lament,
It's a striking miner's lament.
We're fighting for
Our job,
Something we may
May not have,
So get in the picket line
You bloody scab,
So get in the picket line
You bloody scab!
Striking miner's lament,
It's a striking miner's lament...
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2. |
The Nottingham Wives
03:56
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Now here's a tale for all to here
Of wives of the striking miner,
Search the country, you won't meet none finer.
Not for them the mopish life,
They don't stay home and cry,
They don't sit back while others fight.
As living gets tougher
We tighten our belts
Despair of the work to be done,
Our sisters in Notts give us the will to go on,
Husbands and kids, hold up your heads,
Walk tall, look them straight in the eye,
Through these bitter times we will never die...
No mercy is shown you,
No peace ever given,
You're lives must be
One living hell,
But always remember
Though distance may part us
Our thoughts are with you
Hearts as well...
We're filled with such pain
When we hear of your plight
Your families outrageously treated
The victimization, threats and abuse
Through history being repeated
When years have rolled by
We'll sit and remember
This struggle
Our jobs to protect
And we'll tell them with pride
How the Nottingham wives
Wholeheartedly earned our
Respect.
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3. |
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You fought long and strong
And a lot said you were wrong
To fight this obsession
With a Thatcher oppression
You were sold down the line
And we'll all see in time
When they made you go back to the mines, lads.
You've been out for a year
And we'll all shed a tear
There'll be a new fear for the outcome of this year.
Go back with your heads held high, lads.
We were with you all the way
Though we did not have to pay
The workers of today
Should have found a way
For you to win your day
For it's them who'll have to pay for this sad day.
Go back with your heads held high, lads.
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4. |
Men & Mines
02:01
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These handmade roads
Where darkness creeps
Are crushed with timbers
Whose crusty fingers
Hang like wilting flowers, hang like wilting flowers.
A splintered rock reveals
A fossil's cryptic sign
These are the subtle prints
A code that makes
A moment of a thousand years, a moment of a thousand years.
The striking miners
Whose skills are up for grabs
Won't forfeit their lives
And watch communities
Laid waste for selfish policies, laid waste for selfish policies.
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5. |
The Geordie Pitman
00:38
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6. |
Maggie in the Wood
01:02
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7. |
Our Strike
02:30
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Granddad can you hear me
As you take your well-earned rest?
Can you spare a moment
As we face our greatest test?
Granddad we are troubled
And our world is torn apart,
Granddad can I speak to you from deep inside my heart?
Union's still fighting
So stay strong and true.
Union's still fighting
So what do we do?
Government is claiming that the miners have no place
To work and earn a living in this modern human race
They say that pits don't make profits
And some of them must close
Work is hard to come by
So this is what we chose.
Granddad we have sat and watched
As our families struggle by
And now we stand and fight
And give our battle cry
Jobs for all our brothers
Yes jobs for everyone
Days of knuckling under have passed by and gone.
Granddad can you hear me
As tears fall down my face,
We have to win this fight
To save the mining race
As others did before us
All me strong and true,
We'll do it for you granddad,
For the union and for you.
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8. |
Workin' in a Coalmine
02:29
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9. |
The Winter of '84
03:40
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As Tories walk by
What do they see?
As they look down
Their nose at me,
Is it someone
Standing forlorn?
Perhaps ever wishing
She'd never been born?
Well it just goes to show
How wrong you can be.
The proud person
Standing there was me.
I wasn't collecting
For rifles and guns,
Just milk and flour
And cheap bread buns.
It was the winter of 84,
Much too cold to go outside the door
So I stood there clutching my tin
Hoping passers by would put money in.
Tories said our actions weren't right
Backed up with the media's might
Well I'm not a thug
Or the enemy within
I'm just a miner's wife
Clutching a tin,
Clutching a tin,
Clutching a tin.
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