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Writer's pictureColven Gibson

The Village

The Village

Born in a land, rich in black gold

Where the Rocket first ran to town

And Bobby Shaftoe went to sea

To watch the boat come in

Family came first, every last one

Then your street stood firm

Then your village mattered

Though clothes maybe torn and tattered

The pitface like a trench, united all

Once the Red Flag came

The Union did the same

Raising living standards twenty fold

Capitol then declared, the Flag it must not wave

Traitors ! Send them to a traitors grave

Then same the Kaiser War

With European flames

The traitors took the shilling

For the King they did the killing

Decimating the villages and homes

It's a long way to Tipperary....

The weary lads returned

But were robbed of youth they yearned

A legion of comrades they did form

Churchill saw a red flag wave

And declared the British Legion

A revolutionary cohesion

Should be banned forever, ever more

So Geordie , with my blessings, burn them down!

By Public Subscription, monuments were made

Honouring the fallen, name by name

The war to end all wars left too much pain

But as twenty years did pass

Once again Lads left ‘work lass’

Sacrificial working classes once again

After striking ‘84, there was worse in store

The Life of the communities now gone

Closing pits down by the day

No replacements came their way

Only memories of bygone Gala days

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