Song by Colin Thompson

Wasted time Was it all so much?
Wasted time All those years locked away, Night and day, From the light of day underground.

Men I know Broke their hearts and backs only to be told ‘We’ve no more use for you’, Your working life is through.’ What were they to do Out of the dark?

But there was a time When I felt I could see the start of a brighter day, When we wouldn’t have to work for any man except our brother.

Wasted time?
No, it was never wasted time.
Through it all I always kept my faith With myself, with my God, and my brothers.

THE COAL MINING MAN

My daddy was a coal mining man, Yes, my daddy was a coal mining man.
From dawn till night and night till dawn, He worked the mine till his life was gone.
My daddy was a coal mining man.
With props of wood these men of iron Worked like hell down this goddamn mine, With shovel and pick they moved stone and coal, Black as night down this stinking hole.
My daddy was a coal mining man.
Breaking props and creaking stone, A fall of stone and some men groan.
With clouds of dust and choking grit, Daddy worked hard down this hellhole pit.
My daddy was a coal mining man.
‘A way of life,’ it was often said.
‘One way to earn a crust of bread.’ Daddy took bad and could work no more But it taught me one thing, and that’s for sure:
I would not be a coal mining man.
I worked in pits and that’s very true But shovel and pick were not my scene.
I left in search of pastures’ green;
Daddy died, a broken man with shattered dreams, A numbered token in some pit-gaffers’ screams.
This was his life and he carried the can His reward for being a coal mining man.
John Iddon

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