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Chumbawamba

"Coal Not Dole" (karaoke)

"Coal Not Dole" (sheet music)


It stands so proud, the wheels so still,

A ghost-like figure on the hill.

It seems so strange there is no sound

Now there are no men underground.

What will become of this pit yard

Where men once trampled, faces hard,

So tired and weary, their shift done,

Never having seen the sun?

 

There'll always be a happy hour

For those with money, jobs, and power.

They'll never realize the hurt they cause

To the men they treat like dirt.

 

Will it become a sacred ground,

Foreign tourists gazing 'round,

Asking if men once worked here

Way beneath the pithead gear?

Empty trucks once filled with coal

Lined up like men on the dole,

Will they ever be used again

Or left for scrap just like the men?

 

There'll always be a happy hour

For those with money, jobs, and power.

They'll never realize the hurt they cause

To the men they treat like dirt.


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