An evening in the smoke

Tony wielded his pipe like a weapon

He would stab, slash and slice as he threatened

Then he’d stop, smoke and think for a second

The fuel of all progress is hope he said

With smoke clouds a-swirling around his head

And smuts of ash on his cuff glowing red

He talked of the threat of the EEC

And scars from our empire of slavery

Shadows on the dream of equality

A match was struck and he sucked and he blew

Cursing the wealth in the hands of the few,

While workers never receive their fair due

Then he knocked out his pipe on the old coal guard

Mourned for the mining communities scarred

By a government that battered them hard

Who find the money for war when they like

Use the weight of the state to end a strike

While the poor get told they should get on their bike

He laughed as he filled up with baccy again

Then smiled, raised his pipe and he bit on the stem

On that night in the bar with Tony Benn