‘Twas in the year of seventy-two, when the
miners’ strike was done
And the dockers just released from jail, another victory won
That a claim for shorter hours and higher pay was being made
On the part of those construction men who work in the building trade
Chorus
And it’s out you go, on the road, Jack, whether morning
noon or night
From Liverpool, London, Wales and Brum, get ‘em out on every
site
Said the union leaders, “Cool it lads and
leave it up to us
We’ve always seen you right before and the governors want
no fuss”
But the lads had seen through them alright, they said, “No
compromise
We’re going out for thirty quid, so brothers organise”
Chorus
From day to day the struggle spread but still it
would not do
Lump labour sites were working and supplies were getting through
Said the local strike committees, “We’ll pull out all
the stops
We’ll pull out all the scabs and then we’ll pull out
all the cops”
Chorus
So up and down the country the pickets they did
fly
“If you want a living wage then come and join us” was
the cry
From underneath a trailer, in a trench or up a crane
The flying pickets put their case and then moved on again
Chorus
The tide began to turn at last as lumpers organised
The bosses knew the industry was damned near paralysed
To pay the workers’ wage demands it hurt those bastards sore
But to see them getting organised, it hurt them ten times more
Chorus