He was five foot seven and was made to fight

He was hard right through and was will not might

He was steelwork born and miner bred

And was first in line when MacLean led

 

He was bright and true, but not from school

He knew right from wrong and the old rule

He was formed of love but showed no yield

And he spilled his blood on cold Flanders field

 

She was five feet one and was made to cry

She was born for weans and the humble pie

She was third of eight in a single end

And made ends meet with the dividend

 

She worked for the factory and munitions tsars

And fought the factors at the close mooth stairs

She died before her time so her weans could thrive

And she was buried alone in a pauper’s grave

 

And why where they here and what did they mean?  

And what did they say and what did we learn?                

Some just struggle and others just thrive                           

The politics of greed, the politician’s lie        

 

And the wars still come and the young still die

And nothing is learned through their camel’s eye

Their oil is god and the coal is heathen

And the workers still fight for a daft man’s heaven

 

From what once came from the pit and the peat

To now what is mined in the land of the east

From those and their means to those in their need

To those and their lies to those in their greed

 

And the weans grow up in the new world truths

To take what’s theirs and also what’s yours

For what is important in this land today

Greed and creed and not need they say

 

He’s seventeen years and he’s meant to lose

He’s scheme-trap born and he’ll bleed and he’ll use

 

She’s as old as her tears and she drinks for esteem

Her weans are her fears and not just her dreams

 

And why where they here and what did they mean?  

And what did they say and what did we learn?                

Some just struggle and others just thrive                           

The politics of greed, the Politician’s lie