A LANCASHIRE MORNING
by Frank Seddon
 
The early tram goes clanging by arousing all your fears.
Another working day draws nigh as the knocker up appears.
Noises in the village crept as the working class awoke.
Where women fed the fires with coal and filled the streets with smoke.
Young Billy still is fast asleep, lost, in the land of dreams
Until his Mother makes a leap, and at him, starts to scream.
Too late for breakfast, once again he's searching for his clogs.
Then banging through the backyard gate he awakens all the dogs.
Idle Jack runs down the yard, before the break of dawn,
He does not believe in working- if there's something left to pawn
Their Liz still wears her wedding ring, so off it comes, again.
And now he's crawling back to bed; for he thinks it's going to rain.
The miners now have all gone down, the village starts to yawn,
A factory whistle starts to blow, heralding the dawn.
Paper lads are on the streets, going from door to door.
And the rattle of the milk man starts with milk cans on the floor.
Owd Bill, the oldest man in town, coughs then starts to cry,
On his face he wears a frown; for he thinks he's going to die.
Old Maggie, lying by his side, starts praying for his soul,
But Owd Bill thinks about his cash, and it helps him gain control.
Now the kids are going to school, young Jimmy's leg is sore.
He thinks his Mum is getting cruel for his ruse has worked before.
And as he walks his leg improves though his face is turning blue,
So he thinks he'll wag it for the day, if Billy Smith will too
Just a morning from the life of people working hard.
In factory, home and coalmine, without a just reward.
The miner crawling underground, scratching like a mole.
Where his sons and grandsons follow him, to get the nations coal.
 
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