1. My father was a miner,|
And his father was before him,
He always had been proud to work the coal
Since they fell 'neath Provin's axe,
All the lads have had the sack
So away to work in England we must go!
Farewell ye colliery workers,
The muffler and the cap
Farewell ye Rhondda valley girls,
We never will come back
The mines they are a-closin',
The valleys they're all doomed
There's no work in the Rhondda boys,
We'll be in London soon.
2. No more the chapel singin',|
That long ago has left us
And the public house no more the miner's songs
For the boot wheels they are stoppin',
And the populations' droppin'
And I can't afford to stay here very long.
3. Trehearve and Teralvye,
Talleyfinley and Tenobbit
Trastreondda and Semfentra, all adieu
For I can no longer wait
While Parliament debates
So a fond farewell I bid to all of you!
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