Springhill Mining Disaster
Bono: like to...Id like to try a song that I think weve only played once before, so. this is a city that a...a lot of irish people came to this city, right? so this time...this irish...t
Irish people came as rock and roll band, okay? so...but this is a folk song. its like...the irish kinda hold america in a very special place because, for over a hundred years or more, irish have come over here to find work and find a future. and they brouught with them songs, old irish folk songs that became old american folk songs. and, I hope maybe wed leave behind some songs one day. this is a song written by peggy seeger. its a song...i wished Id heard this song on the raidio during the miners strike in england a few years ago. this is called springhill mining disaster.
In the town of springhill nova scotia
Down in the dark of the cumberland mine
Theres blood on the coal, and the miners lie
In roads that never saw sun or sky
Roads--
Bono: shut up for a second, will you? stop whistling cause Im not in the beatles, okay? its u2 here.
In the town of springhill
They dont sleep easy
Often the earth will tremble and roll
When the earth is restless
Miners die
Bone and blood is the price of coal
Bone and blood is the price of coal
Listen to the shouts of the black faced miner
Listen to the call of the rescue team
We have no water, light or bread
So were living on songs and hope instead
Living on songs and hope instead
In the town of springhill nova scotia
Down in the dark of the cumberland mine
Theres blood on the coal, and the miners lie
In roads that never saw sun or sky
Roads that never saw sun nor sky
In the town of springhill
Dont sleep easy
Often the earth will tremble and roll
When the earth is restless
Miners die
Bone and blood is the price of coal
Bone and blood is the price of coal
Bone and blood is the price of coal
Bono: thanks for your patience. thank you.
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Sweet Guinevere
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, if youre kind
She loves a young man and he lives in the town
He leaves the house early for he works underground
He makes a good wage for a coal miners son
And shes a bit pretty, just turned twenty-one
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, shut the blind
She knows her good mothers not feelin no pain
She remembers an explosion and the black falling rain
She paints her thin lips in her dewy-eyed way
Then she says to the daughter, dear daughter I pray
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, if youre kind
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dark As A Dungeon
Come and listen you fellows
So young and do fine
And seek not your fortune
In the dark, dreary mines
It will form as a habit
Seep in your soul
til the blood in your veins
Runs as black as the coal
Theres many a man
That Ive known in my day
Who lived just to labor
His whole life away
Like a fiend with his dope
And a drunkard his wine
A man will have lust for
The lure of the mine
Its dark as a dungeon
Damp as the dew
The danger is double
And the pleasures are few
Where the rain never falls
Where the sun never shines
Its dark as a dungeon
Way down in the mine
I hope when Im gone
And the ages shall roll
My body will blacken
And turn into coal
Then Ill look out the door
Of my heavenly home
And Ill pity the miners
A-diggin my bones
Its dark as a dungeon
Damp as the dew
The danger is double
And the pleasures are few
Where the rain never falls
Where the sun never shines
Its dark as a dungeon
Way down in the mine
Where the rain never falls
Where the sun never shines
Its dark as a dungeon
Way down in the mine
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
If You're Lucky Enough To Be Irish
If you're lucky enough to be Irish
Then you're lucky enough they say.
I count my Irish blessings,
As I breathe the air each day.
When I'm somewhere o'er the water
Not walking Erin's shore,
I know my resting place will be
In Ireland for evermore.
I have Irish songs on my lips,
And Irish blood in my veins,
So I tell you I'm lucky to be Irish,
And I'll keep telling you over again.
I'm lucky enough to be Irish.
My children who walk by my side,
Will I hope, too feel the calling,
And someday walk Erin's fields wide.
poem by Rosi Caswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mother Of A Miners Child
She is my flower
And she blooms for the one who loves her best
The miners stop to watch as she walks
They know her love is not for sale
She will never fail me cause I know
I watch her grow
And the mother of a miners child
Waits for me beside the kitchen door
She is my light
In this place where the darkness never ends
Shell guide me where the tunnels twist and bend
Shes the only one who listens when I tell her
I got less than I can spend
She knows the pace
Oh mother of a miners child
Was away the coal dust from my face
When the night shifts done
Shell be waiting by the table when I come
Searchin for another dream to chase
Oh mother of a miners child
I know that you still think about the day
When well be movin on
Remember dear old daddy and
The promise that I made to carry on
Sometimes I smile
In the cage where the cables softly hum
Id curse that old straw boss to the bone
But the mother of a miners child
Is waiting for her paycheck to come home
Come saturday
And he is just a miners boy
I hope that he will find a better way
She is my flower
And she blooms for the one who loves her best
The miners stop to watch as she walks
They know her love is not for sale
She will never fail me cause I know
I watch her grow
And the mother of a miners child
Waits for me beside the kitchen door
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Song of Wrongs
Some songs are trapped, while other songs are free
Some songs can linger, while others need a key
Some songs look Heavenward to find a place to be
While most songs have homes, some songs aren't so lucky
Which song would you rather hear
The song of hope, or the song of fear
The song that has everything, or the song that needs care
The song you care nothing for, or the song you revere
I'd like to listen to all of those forgotten songs
Not the song of rights, I want the song of wrongs
I want the song of solitude hiding in the throngs
I want the song that has no place to which it belongs
poem by Bianca Free
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cast Aside
When deadly gas invisibly
seeps from some hidden cavity
and overcomes hard working men
They will not see their home again.
This was the kind of tragedy
we used to see quite frequently.
But now King Coal no longer reigns
and miners wives don’t fear the pain.
Of losing men folk to the pit
What is the bloody use of it.
Another kind of tragedy
engulfs ex miners family.
They’re facing life upon the dole.
No longer need to win coal
There are no jobs he can obtain for
those to old to start again.
They gave their lives to old King coal
and spent their lives down yon dark hole.
Their wives now feel a different strain
but miner’s wives do not complain
The did not when their thoughts were filled
with fear of husbands being killed.
I think today their greatest fear
Is when their man gets too much beer
.
Because he’s well and truly bored
and spends more than they can afford.
If she complains he blacks her eye
and then the fur and feathers fly.
Recalling how things used to be
I clearly see the irony.
The cure is worse than the disease.
A tragedy which no one sees.
You will not read it in the press
nor see it on the evening news.
The lasting sense of hopelessness
of men who have nothing to lose.
16-Aug-08
http: // blog.my.space.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ethel Winterbottom
Ethel was an ugly girl
But this was not her fault;
It stemmed from drinking beer with men
While standing in the 'vault.'
A Winterbottom through and through,
At fighting she was good;
And thick brown stout ran through her veins
Instead of pure red blood.
Yes Ethel was a bruiser,
Just like her dear old dad;
Some people reckoned she
And all her family were mad.
Her tongue was like a bayonet
And she'd cut you to the quick
For any little trifle,
Such as calling Ethel thick.
The town that Ethel came from
Was born of jet-black coal;
A mining town in Lancashire,
A miner every soul.
Where life was hard and cruel
And you needed to be tough;
Where money was hard worked for
Amongst the jet-black stuff.
Men were very lucky
To reach old age round there;
To leave the pit come pension time,
With all your limbs, was rare.
Now Ethel had three sisters,
A father and a brother;
But living hard, and thick brown stout
Had taken Ethel's mother.
She'd had to grow up quickly
And learn to stand her ground;
No funny business was allowed
When Ethel was around.
She gave her brothers blow for blow
And curse for curse as well;
No man would better Ethel
Yes, she gave the miners hell.
But now the lass was getting on
And weary of life's fights,
The daily grind among the coal,
The long and drunken nights.
No one had ever told her
This didn't have to be;
Now Ethel's in the graveyard,
But beautiful and free.
Written Jan 1996
poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To The Bone
In the back of a record rack
Theres a old double pack
Twelve inches and black
With an old crumpled cover
But every track is stacked
And it takes me back
To the one who caused this melancholy mood
And every single groove
Cuts me to the bone
Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
I took her back to my bachelor flat
While the stereo played for two
She unwrapped her gift
And played me a riff
And said, this old record was just made for you
Then we danced to songs of passion and
The singers velvet tones
On the gramaphone
While the record played
She rocks me to the bone
Knocks me to the bone
Those those rock n roll romantic songs
Played all summer long
And she rocks me to the bone
Knocks me to the bone.
Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
In dreams shes smiling in slow motion
Devouring all of my emotion
Angels singing rock n roll
While demons take away my soul
Voices sound, her image fades
Every time that record plays
She rocks me to the bone
Knocks me to the bone
In my back room theres an old 45
That we played all summer long
Shakin the beams so loud it covered up the screams
When lovers harmony went oh so wrong
And in every word emotion is torn
And blood flows down the drain
Like she opened up a vein
And cut me to the bone
Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
And now Im just a prisoner
In that stereo hi-fi jail
The needle pierced just like a nail
As she rocks me to the bone
Knocks me to the bone
Do do do do do do do
She rocks me to the bone
Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
Yeah, she rocks me to the bone
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Coal-Truck
I am a coal-truck
Carrying gold dust.
Someone threw some
Coal-dust upon
My gold-dust.
I am a coal-truck
In a gold mine.
Someone struck a coal vein
And piled me full in vain.
I am a coal-truck
Covered in subterranean dust.
Someone shovelled my soil
And found an ancient bone
All coiled.
I am a coal-truck
Waiting for the rain.
The sun is my rail
The night my shed.
I am a coal-truck
Rumbling all the way.
Wash me in the rain-storm
And fill me full of coke
Until I choke.
(©: T. Wignesan,1957 - Pub. in 'Forum Academicum', Heidelberg University,1957; from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cremation - Ashes To Ashes
Well the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore, crying more-more-more
But the coal-black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change, the sea remains the same
The coal-black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up, collect you in a cup
For you the coal-black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
Or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the atlantic coast, have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint at some further point
The same coal-black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Cremation
Well the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore
Crying more more more
But the coal black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change
the sea remains the same
The coal black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up
Collect you in a cup
For you the coal black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the Atlantic Coast
have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint
at some further point
The same coal black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Railroad Song
(ed king - ronnie vanzant)
I jumped off a boxcar down around tennessee
I was cold tired and dirty hungry as I could be
But I had my guitar and a hundred railroad songs
So I asked the policeman
Can I stay here long
He said mr. hobo you got to go now
We dont want you around
See Im trying to build a respectable town
And we dont need a hobo like you around
So I left that town, lord with my guitar in my hand
Still cold and tired, kinda mad at the man
But this life that I chose to live, sometimes strange
See Im trying to learn about the old music from ridin the train
Im a hobo I know, but thtas the price I pay
Guess Ill write me another song while Im on my way
Catch me another train and this is what Ill say
Mr choo-choo train take me away
Im goin to ride this train lord until I find out
What jimmie rogers and the hag was all about
See I play this rock n roll and I think thats fine
But I wnta to go back a little further in time
Im a hobo I know but thats the price I pay
Guess Ill write me another song while Im on my way
Catch me another train and this is what Ill say
Mr choo-choo train take me away
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Piper And The Prey
this is how friday ended
a little bit hard to believe
my perception slightly bending
as the piper came on the scene
it was something so hypnotic
the music even changed
the crowd got up and got chaotic
and they paid so they could play
the pied piper played
the pied piper pushed
songs to make them crave
songs that seemed so good
songs that made it easier
songs down in their blood
songs that take, steal the love
until the song has had enough
at first, the dance was hesitant
not long before everyone knew it
the music spun them 'round and 'round
then it pulled the dancers into it
i danced my dance at my own pace
he laughed, knowing i would change
it took all i had in so many ways
saw others dance until they fell on their face
and still the piper played...
the pied piper played
the pied piper pushed
songs to make them crave
songs that seemed so good
songs that made it easier
songs down in their blood
songs that take, steal the love
until the song has had enough
bodies on the floor
unconscious and awake
the piper gave them more;
they took all that he gave
he played a new illusion
while the world began to sway
the dance became delusion
our hearts became the prey
and i danced as he played
and i danced as he pushed
songs that made me crave
songs that seemed so good
songs that made it easier
songs went down in my blood
songs that took, stole all the love
until the song had used them up
until that song had had enough
saturday was forgotten
by closing out the early sun rays
many dancers have fallen
lost, forgotten, thrown away
the music was their everything
but again they stayed to late
the song kept them spinning
dancing into a darker place
giving in without hesitance
hypnotized by the pipe's melody
until all became the song and dance
the piper was the only one to play
the piper and the song had demands
but they'd nothing left to give away
all that was left was the pipe's trance
and the dancer became the slave
the pied piper played
the pied piper pushed
songs that betrayed
songs not to trust
songs that got heavier
songs itching in their blood
songs that demand the dance
until the song has had enough
that was how sunday ended
and it took several years
now the song gets in my head
and sometimes brings me to tears
now i chose to stand so still
not to give in to what i hear
the song can not destroy my will
the song has nothing left i fear
(2008 & 2010, new orleans, la, usa)
poem by Thomas Quentin Sims
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Diamond Or A Coal?
A diamond or a coal?
A diamond, if you please:
Who cares about a clumsy coal
Beneath the summer trees?
A diamond or a coal?
A coal, sir, if you please:
One comes to care about the coal
What time the waters freeze.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Life Songs
When a child is born into this world,
what kind of song will his or her life be?
A song of joy?
A song of hope?
A beautiful rhapsody?
One of sadness, or of grief?
A song of misery?
When a newborn cries and opens its eyes,
what will its song be?
A song of greatness, a song of wealth,
or one of poverty?
When trouble comes, and surely it will,
what will that child's song be?
When we are born our song begins
and we enjoy its pleasant tune.
We sing its melody in the innocence
that leaves us all too soon.
As we grow we hear the songs of
people in various places.
Songs of pride, songs of hatred
and of conflict among the races.
The songs of children playing together
are very pleasing to hear.
Regardless of race, status or color,
their sweet songs don't cause fear.
The Master told us that with childlike qualities
we'll see God's heavenly city.
To miss such a goal because of hearts so cold
would be a tragic pity.
We hear life songs every day and
like smoke they fade away.
But lives that are sung with childlike meekness
will 'inherit the earth' someday.
To sing a song of wonder and worth
is how this life should really be-
with all the innocents throughout the earth
and with love as our constant key.
When a child is born into this world,
what kind of song will his or her life be?
A song of joy?
A song of hope?
A beautiful rhapsody?
****************
Matthew 18: 3
****************
poem by C.F. Wilkins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sing A Song Of Stephen Foster's
Sing a song of Stephen Foster's a song from long ago
Sing 'Jeanie with the light brown hair' or even 'Old black Joe'
Or sing my 'Old Kentucky home' for that would please me so
Or 'old folks at home' or 'Oh Susanna' to the strains of the banjo.
I hate to hurt your feelings sir but to you I must say no
For I've never heard of this Foster and his songs I do not know
It's the first that I've heard tell of him, never heard of him before
Is he some old ballad monger dead one hundred years or more? .
So you've never heard of Stephen Foster then it only goes to show
That you are not a true folk singer when his songs you do not know
He was America's greatest song writer and his is an undying fame
And I find it hard to believe that you've not heard of his name.
So you can't sing a song of Stephen Foster's, then I'll go elsewhere for beer
For to hear one of his oft sung songs the reason I come here
The drinks are dearer here tonight just to cover your fee
And you can't even sing a Stephen Foster song for me.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Ballarat Where History Don't Fade
In Ballarat where history don't fade
They still honour the Eureka Stockade,
The miners who fought some of them even died
For their rights to them that for years they had been denied
The Town of Ballarat known far and wide
And the people there in their history take pride
Their ancestors fought against their oppressors laws
And even took up arms for their worthy cause.
The name of Peter Lalor they revere
He led the miners fight and conquered fear
But for his fame a huge price he did pay
He lost an arm on that historic day.
The miners were defeated in the bloody fight
They succumbed to the Government forces greater might
But they won their rights for which they went to war
And the story of their bravery travelled far.
In Ballarat where history was made
They still revere the men of the stockade
Who fought against the forces of the crown
Long years ago in their historic town.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Fight For Irish Freedom
'My fight for Irish freedom' the autobiography of Dan Breen
But perhaps he should have called his book 'When young blood stained the green'
For human blood for freedom too huge a price to pay
And liberty or freedom define it anyway.
The freedom of expression whatever that might be
To speak our minds on certain things we are not truly free
Look at poor Salman Rushdie his book you may have read
For his satanic verses some people want him dead.
From the point I am about to make you may think I tend to stray
And what has Rushdie got to do with Irish freedom you might say
But for freedom of expression there has been a World-wide
fight
And yet fear is a deterrent to a basic human right.
The fight for Irish freedom whatever that might mean
For there is more to freedom than the 'wearing of the green'
In Ireland like all Nations there is inequality
Of prejudice and class distinction the World is yet not free.
The ill fated Easter Rising in Dublin of the year nineteen sixteen
And my fight for Irish freedom the story of Dan Breen
Is living on in history yet do we understand
That there is more to freedom than owning a piece of land.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Too-ra-loo-ra
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Hush now, dont you cry
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Thats an irish lullaby
Over in killarney, many years ago
My mother sang a song to me in tones so soft and low
Just a simple little ditty in her good old irish way
And Id give the world if I could hear that song of hers
Today
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Hush now, dont you cry
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Thats an irish lullaby
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My father and brothers were coal miners.
quote by Merle Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!