John Robinson

Coal

The mines are a closing
The last whistle sounds
It’s the dole you are bound for
No more work underground

For all the coal miners
Who suffered and died
Who sweated and toiled
With their sons by their side

From Lanark to Derby
Where the pit-wheels once turned
Still the working folk suffer
Has nothing been learned?

The spirit’s unbroken
The history lives on
Though the fires have gone out
Recollections are strong

Through strike and disaster
Through hardship and pain
The stories won’t leave us
They’ll be told yet again

To break the trade unions
The North was betrayed
There’s no place for forgiveness
There’s a price to be paid

The banners still flutter
The old men still curse
While the profits are lining
The businessman’s purse

From the Somme to the coalfields
To depression and strife
To the oft broken promises
Of a much improved life

Such a heartless destruction
Of a proud way of life
They cut through communities
Like a cold surgeons knife

Remember the miners
And remember them well
And to those who deceived them
You can all go to hell

A collection of crazy and gloomy poetry by John Robinson