5.15 a.m., snow laying all around
A collier cycles home, from his night shift unde rground
Past the silent pub, primary school, workingmens club
On the road from the pithead,
The churchyard packed with mining dead
Then beneath the bridge, he comes to a giant car
A shroud of snow upon the roof, a mark ten j aguar
He thought the man was fast asleep, silent, still and deep
Both dead and cold, shot through with bulle t holes
The one armed bandit man
Came north to fill his boots
Came up from cockneyland
E-type jags and flashy suits
Put your money in, pull the levers, watch them spin
Cash cows in all the pubs
But he preferred the new nightclubs
Nineteen sixty-seven
Bandit men in birdcage heaven
La dolce vita, sixty-nine
All new to people of the tyne
Who knows who did what, somebody made a call
They said his hands, were in the pot
That he'd been skimming hauls
He picks up the swag, they gaily gave away
Drives his giant jag, off to his big pa y day
The bandit man, came north to fill his boots
Came up from cockneyland, E-type jags and flashy suits
The bandit man, came up the great north road
Up to geordieland, to mine, the mother lode
...
Seams blew up or cracked, black diamonds came hard won
Generations toiled and hacked
For a pittance and black lung
Crushed by tub or stone, together, and alone
How the young and old, paid the price o f coal
Eighteen sixty-seven
My angel's gone to heaven
He'll be happy there
Sunlight and sweet clean air
They gather round the glass, tough hewers and crutters
Child trappers and putters
The little foals and half -marrows
Who pushed
And pulled the barrows
The hod boys
And the rolleywaymen
5.15 a.m.