If It Wasn't For The Unions

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

*Irish Traditional:

Toora loora loora loo
I'll tell you something awfu' true
Wouldn't have your telly the noo
If it wasn't for the union

I had a boss in Aberdeen
The nicest fella that ever was seen
He must have thought me helluva green
Before I joined the union

I had a boss named Allardyce
He was really helluva nice
Except for the way he loaded the dice
Before I joined the union

A pal of mine has bought a car
A second-handed Jaguar
He wouldn't hae travelled half as far
If it wasn't for the union

The bosses they were doing fine
Little children working down the mine
They'd have them on the assembly lines
If it wasn't for the union

So men and women all agree
It's time to rise up off your knee
And raise the banner of unity
Forward with the union


Tune: The British Army

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

It's My Union

*Traditional:

'Cause it's my Union, I built a Union
If they want to know who runs it, it's you and I
And no matter what they say, the Union's here to stay
I'll fight in the Union till I die

When the papers run by Tories carry terrifying stories
Of the horrid Union bosses who oppress me
They can rant and scream and rage, I just turn the other page
Their bedtime stories really don't impress me

When the TV commentators say my leaders are dictators
Call them Moscow agents, Reds and such
I ignore their indignation and tune in some other station
Their ravings don't impress me very much

When a bought and paid for stool tries to make me out a fool
By saying that my Union should be split
I just tell him, Keep on walking, it's the boss's money talking
There ain't no good in peddling that shit

You can call me agitator, even call me traitor
Say that my head's gone off its track
Well I can plainly see what the Union's done for me
I'm rolling up my sleeves and fighting back


(as sung by Arthur Johnstone)


*[1989:] An American Union song, this version is an update by Danny Couper. It emphasises the need to defend and protect Union organisation from attack - my sentiments exactly. (Notes Arthur Johnstone, 'North By North')

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

If They Come In The Morning


(Jack Warshaw)
No time for love if they come in the morning
No time to show fear or for tears in the morning
No time for goodbyes no time to ask why
And the wail of the siren is the cry of the morning

They call it the law - apartheid, internment, conscription, partition and silence
It's the law that they made to keep you and me where they think we belong
They live behind steel and bullet-proof glass, machine guns and spies
And tell us who suffer the tear gas and torture that we're in the wrong

The trade union leaders, the writers, the rebels, the fighters and all
And the strikers who fought with the cops at the factory gate
The sons and the daughters of unnumbered heroes who paid with their lives
And the poor folk whose class or creed or belief was their only mistake

They took away Sacco, Vanzetti, Connolly and Pearse in their time
They came for Newton and Seal and the Panthers and some of their friends
In London, Chicago, Saigon, Santiago, Cape Town and Belfast
And the places that never made headlines, the list never ends

The boys in blue are only a few of the everyday cops on their beat
The CID, Branch men and spies and informers do their job well
Behind them the men who tap phones, take pictures and programme computers and file
And the ones who give the orders which tell them when to come and take you to a cell

So come all you people to give to your sisters and brothers the will to fight on
They say you get used to a war but that doesn't mean the war isn't on
The fish needs the sea to survive just like your comrades do
And the death squad can only get to them if first they can get through to you

(as sung by Roy Bailey)

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

The Men Behind the wire

(Pat McGuigan)

Armoured cars and tanks and guns
Came to take away our sons
Every man must stand behind
The men behind the wire

Through the little streets of Belfast
In the dark of early morn
British soldiers came marauding
Wrecking little homes with scorn
Heedless of the crying children
Dragging fathers from their beds
Beating sons while helpless mothers
Watched the blood flow from their heads

Not for them a judge or jury
Nor indeed a crime at all
Being Irish means they're guilty
So we're guilty one and all
All around the truth will echo
Cromwell's men are here again
England's name again is sullied
In the eyes of honest men

Proudly march behind their banner
Firmly stand behind their men
We will have them free to help us
Build the nation once again
Onward people, step together
Proudly, firmly on your way
Never fail or never falter
Till the boys come home to stay

(as sung by The Sands Family)

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

Miner's Wife

(Ewan MacColl)

Every day for weeks and weeks on end he's gone to join the battle
Regular as clockwork in the early hours of day
Sandwich wrapped in greaseproof paper stuffed into the inside pocket
Of his old wind-cheater - off to the picket line

It's just as if he is working on the early shift, the way he rises
In all his body there is not a single idle bone
Gulps a mug of tea and grabs a slice of toast, gives me a quick embrace
And then he's leaving - for the picket line

The mine is deep, the work is hard and the dangers many
There never was a time when coal was easy to win
But now the fight's not only to win coal but for the simple right
To have a job they're fighting - on the picket line

Every night after he's been battling with the scabs and their protectors
I feed him, bathe his bruises, clean and disinfect his wounds
I've always stood behind him but I'll swear from this time on
You'll see me standing right beside him - on the picket line

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

No You Won't Get Me Down In Your Mine

(Trad / Colin Wilkie)

Chorus:

No you won't get me down underground in your mines
Away from the trees and the flowers so fine
Down in the dark where the sun never shines
No you won't get me down in your mines

They work in the dark for the most of their lives
Away from the children, away from their wives
To make others rich, in the heat and the dark
But who's going to care when you're too old to work

There's many a miner has died underground
Died all alone when the roof tumbled down
Or choked out his life underneath the great beams
Or buried and gassed in that lousy coal-seam

I've worked in your factories, I've worked on your farms
Until all the muscles stood out on my arms
I've been in your armies and I've been out to sea
But by Christ you won't make a coal-miner of me

(as sung by The McCalmans)

Tune: by Colin Wilkie

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

The Pound-A-Week Rise

(Ed Pickford)

Chorus:

And it's down you go, down below, Jack
Where you never see the sky
And you're working in a dungeon
For a pound-a-week rise

Come all you colliers who work down the mine
From Scotland to South Wales, from Teesdale to Tyne
I'll sing you a song of the pound-a-week rise
And the men who were fooled by the government's lies

Down in nineteen-sixty, a few years ago
The mineworkers' leaders to Lord Robens did go
Sayin', We work very hard, every day we risk our lives
And we ask you here and now for a pound-a-week rise

And it's up spoke Lord Robens, and he made this decree
When the output rises then with you I will agree
To raise up all your wages and I'll give to you fair pay
For I was once a miner, and I worked hard in my day

So the miners they went home, they worked hard and well
Their lungs they filled with coal dust from the bosom o' hell
The output rose by fifteen, eighteen per cent and more
And when two years had passed and gone it rose above a score

Then the miners they went to get their hard-won prize
To ask Lord Robens for their pound-a-week rise
Robens wouldn't give a pound, he wouldn't give ten bob
He gave them seven-and-six and said, Get back to your job

So come all you colliers, take heed what I say
Don't believe the Coal Board when they say they'll give fair play
They'll tell you to work hard to make the output rise
You get pie in the sky instead of a one-pound rise

(as sung by Dick Gaughan)

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

The Rats Are Winning

(Charlie King)

Since I was a boy my life's been a mad one
Getting ahead don't make it a sad one
Trying to win, having no fun
Playing the game by the rules
Everyone said, You must be the smartest
Those who go furthest are those who work hardest
I was feeding the slave, I was starving the artist
I was working like a mule
In school, I studied hard for years
Getting into college cost me blood, sweat and tears

But the one thing wrong with this rat race
I've been running all my life
Is, the rats are winning

I knew that college would be fierce competition
But I sold my soul to the Dean of Admission
Trying to win the game of attrition
Was tough, but I knew I could beat it
Now you never get by by just getting by
So I looked for a job where the wages were high
I got a piece of pie in the sky
But I never got time to eat it
At twenty-two my ambition was to be a wealthy man
So I took a job because it had a great retirement plan

But the one thing wrong with this rat race
I've been running all my life
Is, the rats are winning

Wouldn't it be nice to take it easy for a while
Standing at the side, watching the rats run by

Then I went to work like the eagerest beaver
The young executive, the over-achiever
The God of Work's truest believer
Hoping the boss could see me
Every day planned to the minute
Beating the system by working within it
Life was a game, I knew I could win it
Don't you wish you could be me
'Cause maybe some day I'll become the chairman of the board
I could be a millionaire at thirty-five with a Rolls Royce at the door

But the one thing wrong with this rat race
I've been running all my life
Is, the rats are winning

Now it seems my life just gets madder
The closer I get to the top of the ladder
I'm getting older, I'm getting sadder
Ashamed of things that I did
The road to the top is winding and shifty
You dress like a lord, tell the wife to be thrifty
Seeing your friends dying at fifty
Saying, I did it all for the kids
But oh, it's good to see them on the weekend if they're home
It seems like only yesterday they're born but now they're gone

But the one thing wrong with this rat race
I've been running all my life
Is, the rats are winning

Wouldn't it be nice to take it easy for a while
Standing at the side, watching the rats run by

(as sung by Iain MacKintosh)

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

Remember John MacLean

(John McGrath)

Chorus:

What freedom you call is not freedom at all
Till tyranny is done
Not the English alone but the tyrants at home
Must go before we've won

You working men of Scotland, all you who want her free
Remember John MacLean right well, or free you'll never be

What good your flags and banners, what good your Bannockburn
When Scotland's full of money-men who will rob you in their turn

We'll proudly build our Scotland where landlords' fences fall
Where industry's for you and me, where each can work for all

(as sung by Gaberlunzie

[Stallit 2 de Halfo]

Workers Song

(Ed Pickford)

Come all of you workers who toil night and day
By hand and by brain to earn your pay
Who for centuries long past for no more than your bread
Have bled for your country and counted your dead

In the factories and mills, in the shipyards and mines
We've often been told to keep up with the times
For our skills are not needed, they've streamlined the job
And with slide-rule and stopwatch our pride they have robbed

And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war
Who's given a gun and then pushed to the fore
And expected to die for the land of our birth
When we've never owned one handful of earth

We're the first ones to starve, we're the first ones to die
We're the first ones in line for that pie-in-the-sky
But we're always the last when the cream is shared out
For the worker is working when the fat cat's about

And all of these things the worker has done
From tilling the fields to carrying the gun
Aye yoked to the plough since time first began
And always expected to carry the can

(as sung by Dick Gaughan)