My Father Was A Collier Lad (Jarratt)
From 'The Man From Wibsey Slack
My father was a collier lad
Grandad was in the woollen trade
His dad was a bargee on the Calder
Before the new canal was made...
My grandma's dad was a loom inventor,
He owned a mill and business paid,
And like his dear old dad before him,
His fiddle by the Aire he played...
My uncle's dad,he was a farmer,
From sheep and moors his living was drawn,
But then the water board took over,
His farm stands ruined and forlorn...
His father was a handloom weaver,
His brother a Thornton Quarryman,
Their dad was a Sheffield Master Cutler,
And his dad a Barnsley publican...
And his dad was a Whitby Fisherman,
And his dad was a packhorse man,
And his dad was a chapel minister,
This is where my tale began...
For their dad was the moorcock high,
And the rough old ram sheltering by the wall,
Their father was the moorland sky,
Who is the father of us all...
My father was a collier lad
Grandad was in the woollen trade
His dad was a bargee on the Calder
Before the new canal was made...