5:15 AM
5.15 a.m.snow laying all arounda collier cycles home
from his night shift underground
past the silent pub
primary school, workingmens clubon the road from the pitheadthe churchyard packedwith mining deadthen beneath the bridgehe comes to a giant cara shroud of snow upon the roof
a mark ten jaguar
he thought the man was fast asleep
silent, still and deep
both dead and cold
shot throughwith bullet holesthe one armed bandit man
came north to fill his boots
came up from cockneylande-type jags and flashy suits
put your money inpull the levers
watch them spin
cash cows in all the pubs
but he preferred the new nightclubsnineteen sixty-seven
bandit men in birdcage heavenla dolce vita, sixty-nine
all new to people of the tynewho knows who did whatsomebody made a call
they said his handswere in the pot
that he'd been skimming hauls
he picks up the swag
they gaily gave away
drives his giant jagoff to his big pay daythe bandit man
came north to fill his boots
came up from cockneylande-type jags and flashy suits
the bandit man
came up the great north road
up to geordieland
to minethe mother lodeseams blew up or cracked
black diamonds came hard won
generations toiled and hackedfor a pittance and black lung
crushed by tub or stone
togetherand alone
how the young and oldpaid the price of coaleighteen sixty-seven
my angel's gone to heaven
he'll be happy there
sunlight and sweet clean airthey gather round the glasstough hewers and crutters
child trappers and putters
the little foals and half-marrows
who pushedand pulled the barrows
the hod boysand the rolleywaymen5.15 a.m.
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