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Wales

Oh, where is the land of mountainous hills 
where sheep ran the vales and men ran the mills.
Where mining was life for all those around,
with the pits bringing coal from dark undergrounds.
This was the life my friend you see,
of charcoaled men drinking charcoaled tea,
backs bent up and coughs they had
dawn to dusk these men worked hard.
It was Dad who showed me what to do,
'don't sit there lad it's up to you'.
'Up at six is what he'd say, early start to work today'.
It was his life, aye, and Grandad's too,
God, man the pits were all they knew.
There were no luxuries then my friend,
no point no money to spend.
Tins for this and tins for that,
the rent man, milkman and musn't forget Pat,
Pat he'd come round each other week
a couple of bob and then he'd keep
the graves around nice and bright,
we would have done it ourselves only we didn't
see much daylight.
The wife, no she had too much to do,
gossiping was all she knew.
But she worked hard in her own way,
washing sheets took her all day,
she always took in washing the wife,
she never complained about her life.
But times have changed I fear my friend,
you think I'm mad but I didn't want it to end.
You see what we had you never knew,
the pits have gone and life has too.

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