Mary Jane sits by the tow path,
Watching coal boats passing by.
Dreaming of tomorrow
With a tear in her eye.
The rattle of the weaving shed
Still roaring in her ears
As she counts the minutes passing by
With her eyes now full of tears. |
| |
Tomorrow is her wedding day;
For love wont be denied.
She thinks of Mickey down the mine
Who will take her for his bride.
She dreads a life of poverty
Full of grief and strife.
With a hatred for the factory
That rules her weary life. |
| |
Mickey, working down below,
Earning his daily bread,
Is thinking of his future
With a feeling now of dread.
He sees the squaller of their lives
Hardly good enough for pigs.
And hates the thoughts of living
In those dwellings called, the Jigs. |
| |
The factory whistle calls her back;
For the looms are starting up.
Pretty slaves return to work
After their morning cup.
Pulleys turn at Astley Green
Bringing the miners out.
And children, waiting for their Dads
Begin to sing and shout. |
| |
Now their working shifts are over
And courting time draws nigh.
There's a reason now for living
With a full moon in the sky.
It sits above the head-gear
And lights the factory wall.
To warm the heart of everyone
When love begins to call. |
| |
Now their cup is running over,
With a full moon up above.
Both discussing their tomorrow
And pledging now their love.
For when Mickey's shift is over
And Mary stops her loom,
There's anew life just beginning
For the Bride and for the Groom. |
| |
But fate has changed the ending,
Tomorrow breaks the spell.
Now the romance is a tragedy
That the papers have to tell.
There's a little grey haired lady
Still tending to her loom.
Dreaming of tomorrow
And waiting for her Groom. |