Gas fuel gone, open up tha pitz, night dreamers o' ritz. Miners strike diamond, canary dead quiet, no banners or sign yet. Pickets at ready, such a blast, bread tu family wishing they could laf. Sut coughs, ad it, passed it and died , now lets remeniss tha people who tried. Cobbled streets, bread n' butter mornings, smell of powerstation air. De-moulders n' sweet hay, half penny sweets that rot our teef away. Clank of mine shaft cogs flyin pickets n' toxic coloured fogs, power station lumi frogs, 9 eyed sprogs. Diamonds are nothing more than chunks of coal that have stuck to their jobs.
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