Ledston Luck run out (Nov 1985)


They’re closing our pit
And why should I worry?
I hated that wet, mucky hole
So, why has it started?
This ‘aching’ inside me
I’m mourning, already, for Coal

A coal-miner’s daughter
I learned from my father
That, sweat and blood earned ev’ry wage
But, something within me
Will die, when the bell rings
And, men ride that very last cage.

November 1985

Funny thing about this industry. There’s a love-hate relationship, something like the feeling that fishermen have for the sea. But, like the dust that makes scars go blue, the pit that your men work at, "gets under your skin".