"Look, right up there. See
That's where we used to come as boys.
It was cool up here after a day on the coal.

Awful life it was, mind you, for youngsters
Down the pit at twelve, loading or hacking
Coal with a pick axe till we wore out.


Just stopping for a snack from our boxes
Then back at it from morning till night.
Aye, aye; I remember it was often dark
When we came up.

Our faces blackened by the coal,
Our lungs filling with the dreadful killing dust!
No wonder we longed for the cool mountain air.

My father used to tell us how the valleys
were once bright and green before the pits.
All we knew was the dust and tin baths
before bed.

But now, the pits have closed down,
The dust has done its worse and the
Valleys will be green and fresh again.

See, by here, evergreen trees grow strong
Where slag heaps dominated our valley.
We can enjoy the cool breeze, knowing


That our mountains will thrive
Thank God, I've lived to see it.
Not like some, lost in explosions,
I'm still alive."