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Lady without a Soul PDF Print E-mail
Written by Peter Smith   
Sunday, 15 February 2009 19:43

This really is a song about my dad's life.  He joined the army in 1936 to escape unemployment, fought through WW2 mainly in India and Burma and then spent 30 years working down the pit and after his death I sat and looked at his worldly possessions and felt ashamed at what they amounted to. All the promises made to get working people to fight their war were reneged on by Thatcher.


My father was a young man in the thirties
Like many of his age he refused to crawl
He took the royal shilling and went to do his duty
chose the comradeship of war to the evils of the dole

They shipped him to Bombay to check the rising sun
then marched him to China and back again
lost his mates and health on the jungle trails of Burma
and his hopes and his faith in man on the road to Mandalay


But the forties brought them peace and a place in a council house
the fifties gave them work and rock and roll
the sixties were a shock that screamed from Mick Jagger’s  mouth
the seventies brought ‘In Place of Strife’ and a lady without soul

Dressed in his demob he entered civvy life
with a chest full of medals as victory from the dole
45 brought VE day, drunken nights and welfare rights
But the morning gave them rationed goods and a future digging coal

For thirty years he served his time working down a local mine
digging coal to pay his dues towards the new welfare
In 79 he left the mine and hoped to sit with rod and line
But the pension only paid the bills and left the cupboard bare


And the eighties brought decay as the right to work was tossed away
though profits soared and prices rose to please the Tory clan
And the 90s brought them Blair with promises of new welfare
But a politician’s promise is not worth a grain of sand

And now he sits in sheltered home and thinks about his friends who’ve gone
smokes a fag and sips tv and waits the bugler’s call
and every year at armistice he stands around to reminisce
on a life of broken promises and lady without soul

Chorus (followed by)

A soul, a soul, a soul cake.
Please good missus a soul cake.
An apple a pear, a plum or cherry,
any good thing to make us merry
One for Peter, two for Paul
and three for them that’s on the dole

Last Updated on Wednesday, 18 March 2009 20:42