[Verse 1]
Grandad’s coat smells like rain and rust
Black dust lined in every cuff
Heard the whistle, saw him disappear
Down a stairway cut in mud and fear
Terraced rows on a crooked hill
Same grey sky, same empty mill
Choirs humming in an old slate church
Soot on the hymn books, sweat in the dirt
[Chorus]
We’re the black lung choir, singing underground
Hearts like canaries, barely making sound
Ash on our tongues, coal in our veins
Boys turned ghosts, writing names in the rain
We’re the black lung choir, echo in the seams
Digging up the past, burying our dreams
[Verse 2]
Paycheck weighed like a loaded stone
“Keep your head down, bring it home”
Posters peeling in a union hall
Promises cheap as the company wall
Mam boiled tea by a flickering flame
Cracked dry hands, never learned to complain
Laugh lines cut through the dust and smoke
Every joke half prayer, half choke
[Chorus]
We’re the black lung choir, singing underground
Hearts like canaries, barely making sound
Ash on our tongues, coal in our veins
Boys turned ghosts, writing names in the rain
We’re the black lung choir, echo in the seams
Digging up the past, burying our dreams
[Bridge]
[Beat drops sparse, distant choir hums]
Who owns the mountain?
Who pays the price?
Who counts the bodies
When the seams run dry?
Houses boarded, pithead bare
But the dust still hangs
In the cold damp air (oh)
[Chorus]
We’re the black lung choir, singing underground
Hearts like canaries, barely making sound
Ash on our tongues, coal in our veins
Boys turned ghosts, writing names in the rain
We’re the black lung choir, echo in the seams
Digging up the past, burying our dreams
No comments:
Post a Comment