Monday, September 5, 2011

Prince of Darkness performed by Ed Miller

lyrics nicked from elsewhere:

i was born in the village of cockenzie, and my father was an elder of the kirk,
and by the time i reached thirteen, he looked me in at the een, and told me it was time i was in work,
for employment was the way to fight the devil and i must challenge him wherever he was found; but if i wanted decent pay, there were five different ways, north, south, east, west or down! Chorus: i used to battle with the prince o' darkness
i used to steal away his heart through a four foot seam; and when they asked if i was poor, i'd tell them "aye, sure"
but they never had to teach me how to dream
the first time i went under i was shakin', i was just a laddie frightened o' the dark
but wi' a cutter in ma hand, i soon became a man, and i was surely never frightened o' the work
i learned to listen for the creakin' o' the timbers, tae watch the air around the candle flame,
and in every sweated turn i learned the risks that were run, and the danger was a miner's middle name

i went down at newtongrange and kirkcaldy, sweatin' blood for seven bob a week
and in the shuttle and the cage, i learned the spirit of the age from men who never turned the other cheek. and when my father asked if i was still for jesus, was he my help and my saviour doon the mine,
and i said i'd bow my head in prayer if i turned and found him, at my shoulder on a union picket line
now i work in the mining meuseum, and show the tourists what ma job used tae be,
and when they ask aboot ma clan, i tell them i'm a workin' man, an' the union was clan enough for me.
it gave me brothers frae, the reddin' tae the rhondda, comrades frae the rockets tae the rand,
for there's nae colour, creed or race when ye're sweatin' at the face, wi a pick or a shovel in yer hand

but now we've got a government in london, and the new labour party's won the day,
and they come back tae find their roots in their sharp italian suits, and when the cameras are gone, so are they
and they whisper that socialism's diein', ye cannae sell it at the supermarket till, but where there's fifty left like me, we'll make bloody sure they see, that ideas are the hardest things tae kill.