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Green Bank Street, Frank's birthplace, was a road in Tyldesley in an area known locally as the Jigs.
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The streets are full of cats and dogs
And children by the score.
Gossips sit on window sills
Or lean on some one's door.
Miners stood at Bally's shop,
Yarn about the pit.
And in the back of Allen's wall
The gambling school now sit. |
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Another mate has just been lost.
The men are quietly stood.
There are absent faces by the shop.
The mine is dripping blood.
But time and tide with life goes on.
The mid-wife's at the door.
Where the lonely widow lies in grief,
As she waits for number four. |
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Blinds are drawn in every house.
There are wreaths upon the floor.
There's another widow in the street,
Just one of many more.
But the kids are laughing merrily,
They have seen it all before.
But miner's wives and mothers
Are shaken to the core. |
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Many years have come and gone.
Of children there are more.
Still gossips sit window sills
And lean by some one's door.
Yes, coal at last, is running out.
And though men are on the dole.
There are not as many widows made,
In the quest for getting coal.
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