Aberfan

It was rainy in the morning as the men left for the mine,
Past the schoolyard in the morning.
At the colliery production charts read, 'Men, we're doing fine,'
As the rain fell in the morning.
The coal board said you're number seven tip will stay in line,
It's been two years this morning.
But no one told the children of Aberfan.

One hundred and sixteen caps and shawls
Danced the halls of the school-house,
While the grown-up inspectors drank their tea
In the safe, dry lee of the tool-house.
As the rain fell in the morning on Aberfan.

Did no one hear the stones move when the tip began to fall?
Did no one feel the slag shake? Was no one there at all?
They were on the phone for Swansea taking orders for more,
They were going about their business, minding the store,
And five minutes later, they were asking, 'What for?'

The call for silence hushed the crowd,
Who searched the clouds for answers.
While they listened for life and held their breath,
The sound of death held the dancers.
As the rain fell in the morning on Aberfan.

But no one told the children, but no one told the children.
And it's always the children.