Still the women wait in trembling hope
Near the old pit head in the valley;
The earth's turbulence has long abated;
"Let him live, dear God", each prays silently.

Still they linger, knees bloodied from kneeling
Hopelessly on the old cobbled main street,
Eyes ugly red from constant weeping.
Not daring to acknowledge the worst.

Still lies the sad morning after the vigil,
And now there are no more survivors.
"**** this for a ******* waste of time,"
Yells Fat Irene as she waddles off to the pub.