Land of My Fathers

Growing up in a mining town was great playing on the coal tips Coming home black as the firegrate But everything was dusty from the pits The black mountains and smoke filled sky The way of life was different those days We had no cars to get by Walking and horses were the transport ways Sat on my doorstep at 2 o'clock When day shift march past in song Heading for the leaky tap pit stop Where some stay all night long We'd wait outside to hear the jokes and tales From scrumpy soaked minds Get home before darkness falls on Wales Sharing a bed with two brothers all in line No technology to deture us from adventures No television ruling our nights We had a piano for entertainment pleasure Mother knitting as the open fire ignites Sunday's tin bath in the kitchen Father washed first then my brothers swills By the time I got my dip in The cold dirty water gave me chills We had no bathroom just an outside loo With newspaper dying your bum cheeks Winter time was cold and cruel With frozen windows that always leeked I often sit and reminisce good times When life was more simple then I can always keep in my mind Given the chance I'd do it all again