I stood down in the valley
Gazing up to the top of the hill
Where I saw the lines of marching men
With faces black and grim
But the vision quickly faded
Before my burning eyes
And I came back to reality
As the thunder rent the skies

But we will wait until a new bairn is born
And raise our glasses to herald a new dawn
We’ll toast a new saviour but at the same time mourn
Poor Johnny Coal

I stumbled into the old village
Rubbed the tiredness out of my eyes
And gazing up into the dawn light
Saw young birds high up in the skies
And from the rows of houses
Came women collecting their milk
Clutching the bottles to their breasts
Like a bairn who’s belly’s been filled

But we will wait until a new bairn is born
And raise our glasses to herald a new dawn
We’ll toast a new saviour but at the same time mourn
Poor Johnny Coal 

Three wise men came bearing gifts
They were following a star
It lit up all their hopes and dreams
As they journeyed from afar
Are they three wise monkeys
Or really three wise men
Just turn your back and walk away
Keep counting up to ten

But we will wait until a new bairn is born
And raise our glasses to herald a new dawn
We’ll toast a new saviour but at the same time mourn
Poor Johnny Coal

But we will wait until a new bairn is born
And raise our glasses to herald a new dawn
We’ll toast a new saviour but at the same time mourn
Poor Johnny Coal

(Gary Miller)

© 1992 Whippet Records

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