At last we’ve won the sought-for-joys
that any man would crave.
And we were right when we fought the fight
till the bloody owners caved.
Now we have a fiddler
and a caller our songs to call
so with-your-arms held tight around me,
we’ll dance about the hall.
I’ll smell the rose scent in your hair,
while you give my bruises tending.
I’ll smoke my pipe,
rest in my chair
and doze while I am mending.
How long ago, our reluctance.
Our Damn-ed hesitations.
To think we might have lost our rght
to achieve our aspirations!
Come morn we return to the bloody coal,
to the dust and sweat and pain.
We’ll work and abide by the settlement
till it’s time to strike again.