Empty fingers empty hands
Body wracked by hunger pangs
Children play upon the sands
And your mam goes hungry in Geordieland
Get a job the papers say
As if three pass us everyday
We work as if it’s Groundhog Day
All we ask is living pay
See living pay brings living hope
That we won’t end up choked on this bloody rope
That ties our children to us and us to our jobs
And our hopes and dreams to the ground
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