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DANNY'S HARD LIFE
Oh Danny drank his pints at the old Bridge pub
He loved his beer and whisky
He worked all day then spent his pay
And he wandered the streets in misery
"So take me down to my old town
Where the beer is brown and fine
Then lay me down on the cold hard ground
And leave me there to die"
"What a bloody hard life I've had"
Poor Danny's life was sad
What a bloody hard life he had
The people drank and Danny paid
He gave his money generously
Danny drank and Danny sang
He made the people heppy
"So take me down to my old town
Where the beer is brown and fine
Then lay me down on the cold hard ground
And leave me there to die"
"What a bloody hard life I've had"
Poor Danny's life was sad
What a bloody hard life he had
The nights grew cold as Danny grew old
And the old tree was laid bare
For Danny knew as the cold wind blew
The people didn't care
"So take me down to my old town
Where the beer is brown and fine
Then lay me down on the cold hard ground
And leave me there to die"
"What a bloody hard life I've had"
Poor Danny's life was sad
What a bloody hard life he had
(Gary Miller)
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2. |
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THE RISING OF THE NORTH
[Instrumental]
(Gary Miller)
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THE COAL-DIGGER’S GRAVE
There had just been a big cave-in in the depths of Belly Row
And Jim Greenwood was stretched out on the ground
And those with no guts were smiling at the back
While the strong men had failed to bring him round
The burial party had just reached the top of Dead Man's Hill
It was well past closing time and all the men had drunk their fill
They were starting to shovel the soil over his head
When he jumped up and yelled, "Give us whisky!"
The top men are calling for enquiries round the town
They've got a lot of face to save
And they've sent out appeals for the men to rally round
"Will someone put a body in the coal-digger's grave?"
Jim Greenwood had survived many pitfalls in his time
And the thinkers couldn't think what else to do
"We cannot starve your family and we cannot steal your home
But somehow we're going to get you"
And they sent him off to fight in the war
And the bullets knocked him to the ground
And they said, "That's the end of you my son"
But the bugger he came back round
(Gary Miller)
Copyright © 1988 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
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4. |
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PRIDE
I remember working winters
That were cold and filled with strife
But the winters of my winter years
Are the coldest of my life
But we’ll keep the fires burning
With the anger in our souls
And pray to God in Heaven
For the men who dig for coal
My youngest son called Terry
Was a shipbuilder by trade
And he told me he was proud to work
For a good and honest wage
Then his boss said, “Son we’re paying you off
With involuntary redundancy pay
Though you’ve built ships that have sailed
Down South America way”
When you’re faced with a crisis
We will never let you down
We’ll do just what’s required to a man
You can lead sheep to the slaughter
And we’ll follow every one
But you can’t destroy the pride
Of a hard working man
Sitting round with beers
With the lads who’ve never worked
And telling them all stories
Of the times when we worked hard
Then we’ll doff our caps in honour
To the old days long gone by
And drink to a good future
When we’ll never lay down and die
The fighters throughout history
Have never been put down
And they’ll always keep on fighting
Though they’re stamped into the ground
And the marchers keep on marching
Though the blood drips from their feet
And the pride of a whole nation
Reaps a victory from defeat
(Gary Miller)
Copyright © 1992 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
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5. |
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6. |
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GRANDFATHA’S FATHA
When I was a young lad and had never known a job
I would visit my grandfather once a week
And I’d listen to his tales whilst sitting on his knee
But of his days at work he’d never speak
I found out that his father had died long ago
When granda was a young lad like mysel’
It was down the pit he died whilst working on the gang
There was a big explosion so they tell
They were cut off from the world
When the big cage doors were closed
They sang and talked to keep their spirits high
Then his father told the tale
Of when he’d met Old Nick Himself
And then he joked he’d see them all in Hell
They’d both left home together
They were both on the same long shift
And with the other men they piled into the cage
But the clanging of machinery as they descended down
Was warning them “you’re going to your graves”
When the cage reached the bottom
All the men clambered out
And like tiny ants they laboured in the gloom
Then an almighty bang rent the air
As the men began to shout
And the roof caved in to seal them in their tomb
No one knew what had happened
Until the dust began to settle
It looked like there’d been a battle
With the Devil down in Hell
My grandfather had been knocked unconscious
By a beam that had grazed his skull
While his father just lay lifeless where he fell
They’d brought him to the surface
By the time that he’d come round
Someone said “Son forget what happened
To you down there in the dark”
But his mind could never escape the horror
Of seeing his poor father die
In that dark hole that was called his place of work
(Gary Miller)
Copyright © 1988 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
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7. |
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NO CHANCE
Tim Malone took the long road home
As the night was closing in
And the cruel wind struck and wailed in angry moans
With his scarf wrapped tight around his neck
And his cap pulled over his eyes
He fought to keep the cold out of his bones
As he passed by closed down factories
Waste ground and crumbling walls
He recalled the evening's events oh what a story
The cinema's woodbine smells
The patriotic war film as well
And the end to the tune of 'Land of Hope and Glory'
"Cheer up there bonnie lad"
Says the man who knows no cares
"It's no use crying needlessly"
(I'm all right Jack)
"Get up off your backside"
Says the man who knows it all
It’s no use waiting until your boat comes in
(I see no ships round here)
"Because you'll find out son it's never coming in"
At the shipyard on the quayside
He watched the men come out
And the boss said "Are you looking for a job"
He sang "Weel may the keel row"
To the tune of fifty quid
But the boss said "Try some busking with your gob"
(Weel may the keel row that my laddie's in)
He'd sit and curse at four grey walls
And watch his life go slowly by
Waiting for next pay Friday to come
Then he'd sit and sup his beer
Watch people come then disappear
And wonder if their lives were fashioned out of stone
(Gary Miller)
Copyright © 1988 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
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8. |
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THE ROW BETWEEN THE CAGES
One morning when I went to work the sight was most exciting
I heard a noise and looked around and who do you think was fighting
I stood amazed and at them gazed to see them in such rages
I never saw a row like that between the Brockwell cages
The patent to the old cage says although I be a stranger
I can work my work as well as you and free the men from danger
But if the rope should break with me old skinny jaws just watch us
You'll see me clag on to the skeets for I'm full of springs and catches
The old cage to the patent says I warrant you think you're clever
Because they've polished you with paint but you'll not last forever
For when your paint is worn away then you'll have lost your beauty
Now they never painted me at all but still I've done my duty
When going up and down the shaft the patent cage did threaten
For to take the old one's life if they stopped it meeting
The old cage bawled out as it passed you nasty dirty patent
Rub your eyes against the skeets I think you're hardly wakened
The old cage says come over the gates because it's my intention
To let you see whether you or me is the best invention
The new one being raised took off his claes and at it they went dabbing
The blood was running down the skeets and past the weighman's cabin
The brakesman brought them both to bank the mischief for to settle
They fought from five o'clock 'til six and the patent won the battle
It took the brakesman half his shift to clag them up with plasters
The old cage sent his notice in just to vex the masters
(lyrics: Tommy Armstrong / music: Trad. arr. The Whisky Priests)
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BALLAD OF JOHN EGAN
John Egan is a meek man
A miner, a meek man
And 'The meek shall inherit the Earth', they say
'The meek shall inherit the Earth'
John Egan mined for 50 years
He slaved for 50 years
He mined in the morning
He mined all those days
He served for 50 years
John Egan has a tale to tell
He has a life to tell
And 'It's time that tale was told
Time his life was told
The bells toll, the bells toll
John Egan sleeps and dreams
He dreams of Heaven
He dreams of His Maker
He dreams of Paradise Row
He dreams that the meek shall inherit the Earth
The meek shall inherit the Earth
John Egan is a meek man
A miner, a meek man
And this is the tale the bell tolls
This is the tale he tells
(lyrics: Keith Armstrong / music: Gary Miller)
Copyright ©1998 Keith Armstrong / Gary Miller / Whippet Records
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10. |
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THREE RIVERS
An old man once told me a story
Of three rivers running through this land of mine
And men who would die to feed their loved ones
Now the work is all gone the rivers run clear again
And who would believe they've seen three rivers running clear
Who am I well I'll tell you I'm Jack Robson
And I'd cut you down with words as well as blows
I used to make the steel down at the foundry
Now it's gone the steel is rust the furnace cold
I had a wife and bairns who felt my kindness
And my belt and my rage when hard times came
They left one day to look for something better
I wonder if they found it
If the wounds upon my body had been money
If the tears I've shed for you had all been gold
If the times that I've been drunk had all been diamonds
Would the love you had for me have been so cold
I'm a welder by trade my name is Wilson
And I built the ships that fought my country's wars
I'd take my lad to see the game at Roker
Where he would dream of being captain of the team
To score a goal and get a winner's medal
And hold the cup for everyone to see
His sisters used to sing of Bobby Shaftoe
And what he'd do when he came home from sea
Those who knew me they all would call me Tommy
A geordie collier to the core
Unsung hero of this country
Who never went away to fight a war
Fought my battles down there at the coal face
Two thousand feet below my home
Until a wiser man said "Tom the war is over
There's nothing left for you now go on home"
What's my name it really doesn't matter
I'm the eyes now blinded by hot steel
I'm the hands all bloody black and broken
I'm the ears that heard the last ship leave
I'm the father crying for his children
I'm the husband begging to his wife
I'm the voice of doubt and fear politicians never hear
As three rivers run on silent to the sea
(lyrics: Mick Tyas / music: Gary Miller)
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11. |
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WHEN THE WIND BLOWS, BILLY BOY
Where have you been all the day Billy Boy
Now you have put away all of your toys
I wish I had known you when you were a boy
But that's all gone now
I'll never forget when I first put you now
You were dancing all round the town
With your shoes all scuffed and your curly hair brown
But that seems such a long time ago now
When the wind blows you've got time on your hands
But when the time comes it blows by so fast
I'll dream of the days that are coming at last
When the wind blows Billy Boy
You in your innocence were such a sweet little thing
Now that's gone forever flown like birds on the wing
Did you ever regret it did you lose anything
Now it's all in the past Billy Boy
Where have you been all the years Billy Boy
You threw them away like you didn't know how
All for the sake of just living for now
Well I still love you Billy Boy
Now you and your sweetheart will walk hand in hand
You and the world and his wife make a stand
For all that we've ever held at our command
As you count down the years Billy Boy
Now the wind's blown all the time from your hands
Now the time's come will you blow by so fast
Or welcome the days that are here at last
When the wind blows Billy Boy
(Gary Miller)
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12. |
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PITMAN TOM
Well I know of this little old gadgie
You can call him Pitman Tom
With lots of bairns and an indomitable thirst
How could the bugger go wrong?
Not so tall, bow-legged an' all
He looked a little bit frail
But stick a tanner in his pocket
And he was ready for his ale
He was down the pit at the age of nine
His brother carried him to work
And the first thing he could remember
Was sitting in the dark
Now the coal dust made him thirsty
And inspired him to verse
So he sold his songs so that all night long
He could satisfy his thirst
His glory was his pen
His muse was a mug of ale
His wit was as sharp as a knife in the dark
How could the bugger fail?
His legs were made of rubber
His hands were made of clay
His throat was made of sawdust
But his words were made to stay
One day he went to the co-op
But ended up in Durham Gaol
He nicked a pair of stockings
And the judge refused him bail
He said "Tom why did you nick 'em?"
And he answered in reply
"I'll never see another pair of bow-legged leggings
Until the day I die"
But now the bugger's gone
And buried in his grave
And all the folks from 'round about
Never recognise his name
But if he was alive today
He'd write them all a song
About that silly old gadgie
By the name of Pitman Tom
(Gary Miller)
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13. |
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BONNIE WOODHA'
Down by yon green bushes near Calder's clear stream
Where me and my Annie oft times we have been
Oh the hours flew right past us, right happy we'd be
It was little she thought that a soldier I'd be
So it's farewell to Annie, for I must away
For the king he needs soldiers and I must obey
But if providence proves kind love until my return
I'll wed with my Annie near Calder's clear burn
On the Fourteenth of August our regiment was lost
And a ball from the enemy our lines came across
Oh it struck me on the temple, the blood trickled down
I reeled and I staggered and I fell to the ground
"Come here" cried our captain, "Come here with great speed
For I fear by this bullet young Dimsmore lies dead"
Two men with a stretcher did quickly prepare
And they carried me away to a hospital bed
Cold water and brandy they poured out so free
And they turned me all over my wounds for to see
But if I had my Annie to bind up my wounds
One kiss from her sweet lips would soon deaden this doom
And it's when I am weary and think of Lang Syne
When I was a miner and worked in the mine
Oh the tears they do trickle and down they do fall
Like the roses that bloom around bonnie Woodha'
(Trad. arr. The Whisky Priests)
Copyright © 1998 Gary Miller / Glenn Miller / Whippet Records
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MANIMAL FARM
The cock crows dawn and signals time to rise
Manimal Farm is soon full of life
The horse is in the field or down the mine
The cock just sits there and bides his time
The cock just sits there and bides his time
Spring brings in the lambing time
School days over in summer time
We bring in the harvest at autumn time
But winter is cold at the slaughter time
Winter is cold at the slaughter time
We will grow old before our time
We will taste sorrow and bitter wine
We will bring the crops in until the day that we die
We will feed the swine
The power of authority is thine
The power of the Lord is mine
The harvest fails when God is unkind
He will punish us and we will cry
He will punish us and we will cry
(Gary Miller)
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LEAD THEM TO THEIR GRAVES
The moon is up the stars are out
You're in your shining tower
And love is shining down on you
From its heavenly bower
But the man in the moon will come too soon
Destroying all he saves
And you'll catch a falling star tonight
As you lead them to their graves
Bite the hand that feeds
Are the words you know so well
Yet you fight the hand that bleeds
In your self made living hell
Your love has withered down the years
Yet theirs grows with the days
And you'll reap their crop until they drop
As you lead them to their graves
A million tears count the years
From your cradle to their graves
On faces once so beautiful
Which love could not have saved
Do the flowers of romance still touch their hearts
Do they yearn for days now past
Will they bloom again in their twilight years
Or will they just fade away
The moon is up the stars are out
You're in your shining tower
Yet the architects have failed you
Their work has never flowered
A deep dungeon hides the greatest gift
Once beheld by eyes now glazed
Will they finally free what they long to see
As you lead them to their graves
As you lead them to their graves
As you lead them to their graves
(Gary Miller)
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LAND OF THE DINOSAUR
Here amongst the memories
That belong to yesterday
The monolithic metal beasts
No longer rule the waves
The ruins of a greater age
Lie strewn across wasteland
The dinosaurs are now extinct
Their bones rust in the sand
The timbers burned
The wheels have turned
The ships have sailed away
Yet the dinosaurs stand tall and proud
In the graveyard that remains
See the greatness now expired
In the hearts and lives of men
Monuments of men
Monumental men
And their epitaph shall be:
'They walked on water
They parted the waters
Until the seas of power engulfed them'
(Gary Miller)
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SEE THE WHIPPET RUN
I was born and bred into a race of skill
It's the drug that gives me speed and thrills
With a never ceasing heat in my heart and brain
To give me the power of a speeding train
See the whippet run
Watch it leap the highest hurdles
Run rabbit run
Keep on heading down that track
See the whippet run
As it hurtles to the finish line
Racing past your train and never looking back
There's many a pleasure and delight
In being the victor through another man's plight
I can see the gold at the rainbow's end
So carry me up as the gods descend
This race has led me to grief and woe
And brought me to arms against friend and foe
Yet the fire still burns as bright as before
I can win this race and a thousand more
(lyrics: Gary Miller / music: Glenn Miller)
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18. |
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They spent their lives trying to make ends meet
But met their ends before such ends could meet
(lyrics: Keith Armstrong / music: Glenn Miller)
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BALLAD OF JOHN EGAN
John Egan is a meek man
A miner, a meek man
And 'The meek shall inherit the Earth', they say
'The meek shall inherit the Earth'
John Egan mined for 50 years
He slaved for 50 years
He mined in the morning
He mined all those days
He served for 50 years
John Egan has a tale to tell
He has a life to tell
And 'It's time that tale was told
Time his life was told
The bells toll, the bells toll
John Egan sleeps and dreams
He dreams of Heaven
He dreams of His Maker
He dreams of Paradise Row
He dreams that the meek shall inherit the Earth
The meek shall inherit the Earth
John Egan is a meek man
A miner, a meek man
And this is the tale the bell tolls
This is the tale he tells
(lyrics: Keith Armstrong / music: Gary Miller)
Copyright ©1998 Keith Armstrong / Gary Miller / Whippet Records
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20. |
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THIS VILLAGE
This village draws me
I hear it calling me back through the years
Its people are its life-blood
I am its joy; I am its tears
Makers were forged here
To forge a bond no cruel hands could destroy
Artists' hands seized it
Lost lovers grieved for it
Builders have reached for its skies
Poets have captured its beauty
They speak of its sad beauty now
This village haunts me
Its whispering hurt tears at my soul
Why did I forsake you?
Welcome me back welcome me home
A sacred bond exists here
Between the land and the people it owns
It grants no escape from the realms of its fate
It reaps the crops we have sown
This village has made me all that I am
This village is calling me home
(Gary Miller)
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21. |
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WORKHORSE
Out across the cold grey fields
Like a monument to the damned
He ploughs the fields and scatters
The good seed on the land
And in the evening when the sun goes down
And the whole world is asleep
He carries on with one last shift
To earn his mind some peace
He suffers all the taunts and jibes
Of the cruel ploughboy lads
As they idle all their time away
Though there's money to be had
He carries on regardless
Though his back is bruised and sore
His heart beats faster than a train
And his lungs are clogged and slow
This old workhorse will work 'til he drops
When his work is all done, he refuses to stop
When he's put out to pasture will he finally be free
Will his body and mind at last feel relief
He no longer heeds the danger signs
He no longer hears the warning chimes
Deaf, dumb and blind, just the straight line ahead
Driving him on 'til he drops down dead
Out across the cold grey fields
Like a monument to the damned
He ploughs the fields and scatters
The good seed on the land
And in the evening when the sun goes down
And the whole world is asleep
He carries on with one last shift
To earn his mind some peace
Now who will hold him close and weep
In their deepest thoughts his love to keep
And ease his body from dusk 'til dawn
This self-made martyr with his crown of thorns
(Gary Miller)
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released October 10, 1998
Track 1
Recorded at Prism Sounds, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, December 1985.
Originally released in 1986 on the compilation album 'Twelve Go Mad In Durham' (DB331, Durham Beat Records).
Tracks 2-3
Recorded on 4-track at Fowlers Yard, Durham, 20th Dec 1986.
Track 4
Recorded on 8-track at The Pig Pen, Trimdon, County Durham, 14th February 1987.
Produced & Engineered by Alex Morris.
Track 5
Recorded on 16-track at Teesbeat Studio, 7th-8th July, 1987.
Produced & Engineered by Dimmer Blackwell.
Tracks 6-8
Recorded on 8-track at The Pig Pen, Trimdon, County Durham, 14th February 1988.
Produced & Engineered by Alex Morris.
Tracks 9-17
Recorded on 16-track at Studio 64, Middlesbrough, 22nd-23rd October, 1993.
Tracks 18-19
Recorded on 24-track at Trinity Heights, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, March 1995.
Produced & Engineered by Fred Purser
['Bleeding Sketches' outtakes]
Tracks 20-21
Recorded & mixed live at BBC Radio Newcastle, 12th June 1996.
℗ & © 1998 Whippet Records
WPT17
