TRAGEDY
THE KINGS CROSS TUBE
In December 1987 this poem was inscribed onto parchment and mounted behind a large glass screen to be displayed for many months, with the countless other tributes outside kings cross station. It was later read on Southern sound radio, and on seeing the poem, H.R.H. Prince Charles commented favourably.
For the people, starting another day
The Kings Cross Tube clanked on its way
Six hundred souls crushed together
A silent six hundred rushed together
As doors clamped shut, their eyes grew slack
They gazed at the lights but the bulbs stared back
They crinkled their papers and buried their heads
And smelt the stale air and thought of their beds
But then the six hundred slowed to a stop
For deep in the earth at an unknown spot
The Kings Cross Tube ground to a halt
Not a word was heard as they all held their breath
Were the silent six hundred waiting for death
Like leeches they clung, as one by one
On metal springs their bodies hung
They raised their heads but the silence bit deep
It clawed at their souls as they shuffled their feet
Then the brakes gave a sigh and the motors hummed
The Kings Cross Tube clanked on its way
For the people starting another day
It thundered on to arrive at the station
Where they all rushed out of this metal creation
To push up the platform and squeeze round the bend
Where they stood on a staircase without any end
Habit had trained them to stand on the right
So each stood on a step and gazed at the sight
Of billowing smoke from the staircase well
That ushered them into a living hell
Where they fought for life beneath the street
A battle blind, in the fumes and the heat
That stole them away, their Maker to meet
Audio Version
SHIPS IN THE NIGHT
On Sunday 27th March 1977 two jumbo jets collided, in blinding snow at Tenerife airport. Six hundred perished in the worst air disaster ever recorded.
Suzie and the captain cried
When they heard six hundred died
In silver ships that did not pass
As in the night they met, alas
With no-one left to shoulder guilt
This sorrow will not ever wilt
All blame was hidden in the snow
Whose fault it was, no one will know
But even though the pain is past
Reality and death outlast
Those secrets buried ’neath the snow
Where love has died and guilt will grow
TO SUZIE, A BRITISH CALEDONIAN STEWARDESS
Audio Version
THE HELL OF HEYSEL
In 1985 in the Heysel Stadium, in Italy, on the 29th May, thirty-nine people perished at the hands of mindless football fanatics when a contingent of Liverpool fans deliberately stampeded towards the opposing supporters. Even the scale of the disaster did not mean the match would be postponed; authorities decided against this because they feared even more disruption if the event was cancelled.
’Ere we go, ’ere we go, ’ere we go
We tell ’em all where to go, where to go
Pubs all shut, and traffic stops
Strength of numbers halts the cops
We’re off to kill and crush and maim
It’s what we call the football game
We shove and spit and bottle folks
We’re full of fun, full of jokes
We got no tickets, never mind
With push and shove we all find
The gates’ll open, ain’t they kind
But kiddies, children, women too
End up screaming, turning blue
Against the fence, with no way through
But as we push on with our mates
We spot some blokes resuscitate
So we stand back and urinate
But they carry on, to play the game
With punters down there, dying in shame
So we laugh, and live up to our name
It’s just another football game
Audio Version
TITANIC
This sad story I was told
By an ancient shipwright, old and bold
Who built a boat, in Belfast town
That saw some thousand people drown
We showed our skill, we had such pride
As we gazed upon her cliff-like side
By painting on the hull below
Where strangers eyes would never go
Immortal words that touched the lip
“Even God can’t sink this ship”
For in our skill we put such trust
Not knowing that the Earth’s crust
As it formed the ore, the ship to mould
Gathered snowflakes in the cold
To form the iceberg, that in time
Would be drawn, as thou by line
To dark caress, as cold and still
These lovers echoed cries so shrill
That their caress, in dead of night
Did break their backs, despite their might
But when in pride, we wrote such things
We found that God, all sorrow brings
So be warned when wielding skill
You do submit to Gods own will
Audio Version
IN THE COCKTAIL BAR
They looked, with dark glasses and shades
As the boss said, a couple of right tasty blades
Pete, the Para and Lee, of the old R.U.C
Were getting blind drunk, quite literally
For being blown up, in Ireland, left a sad memory
And Pete who taught Judo now, said ‘never mind’
The only ones I can’t teach, these days, are the blind
So we all laughed out loud, ’til Lee turned and said
Now I can’t watch T.V., I just listen instead
But I remember the time we were blown to the floor
And the bloke down the road heard this thump on his door
So he ran round and found, in the rain and the sleet
The head of my mate, lying right at his feet
Well, I think we were lucky, said Pete, butting in
That we didn’t end up dead meat, in the bin
So they clung to the bar, swaying around in the heat
Their faithful old guide dogs asleep at their feet
With apologies and affection to Lee and Martin of St. Dunstans home for the blind, Sussex, England.
Audio Version
ABERFAN
In 1989 the national coal board closed the coal-pit at Aberfan. The village slowly died and with it the memory of a whole generation of children who perished, when the gigantic slagheap of the coal-tip slid down in heavy rain upon the village school. The one hundred and sixteen children were all aged between eight and ten years old.
By the black heaps of slag
Were they born
From the coal-tip black
Were they carved
Out the desecrated land
Were they reared
Side the smouldering slime
Were they shamed
And ’neath the landscape raped
Were they buried
Audio Version
THE DISAPPEARED
No eyes were dry in the street that day
When a lone sniper shot for the I.R.A.
A teenage soldier who cried for his mum
As he bled to his death, in the morning sun
Jean McConville gently cradled his head
As he called for his mum until he lay dead
Jean knew what it was to be so alone
She’d brought up ten children all on her own
Catholic women should just lure soldiers to death
Not give them comfort, in their dying breath
Gerry Adams gave orders, Jean must disappear
So the Turf-Lodge Gang shot her right in the ear
Then stuck her in sand, down by the water
If no-one could find her, he could deny slaughter
But Bill said to Gerry, “you’ve got bad exposure
Ten orphans want a body back, so they can have closure
So dig her up, send her back, then you won’t get such flack”
“But the kids are all in foster homes,” Gerry said at last
“And if we leave her in the sand, the tide will rot her fast
But I don’t really care, nor need a reason why
For my Kangaroo Court had sentenced her to die
Now I know she wasn’t there, and didn’t stand a prayer
But when this scandal goes away, we can kill another day.”
Dedicated to the three young Catholic women who lured three soldiers to their death, and of course, Gerry Adams and Bill Clintion.
Audio Version
THE CULLING OF A CHILD
In Rio-De-Janeiro a million children live rough on the streets. They survive by begging and stealing and this has prompted the rich shop owners to employ death squads, to protect their lavish life-style, who slaughter hundreds of children a month, by pouring petrol down the sewers, where they sleep, or gunning them down where they find them by day, living on wasteland.
Do not fear, and do not weep
For us, the children of the street
Who flourish in this no-mans land
Where poverty and riches meet
We are one people, you and me
Your future lives in us
But as you kill you cannot see
The beauty you destroy
For when you slaughter children
With natures wrath you toy
For as innocents are culled
And pavements warm their breath
The tourists then are lulled
To sponsor sudden death
In sewers and alleys, look around
We live and die on wasted ground
For killers placed in tinsel town
By the devils of desire
Send Godless slaves to shoot us down
In a blaze of rich mans fire
Audio Version
THE UNSUNG STRANGER
Dedicated to the unsung stranger, found in the booking hall, after the Kings Cross underground disaster who, even with a surgical plate in his skull and stencilled teeth, to this day still defies identification.
No marker for my grave
No wreaths, no relatives
Only my old friend, pain
But I too was there, I too burned
I too, watched the great ball of fire
As it spawned and swirled
Around this evil hall of death
I too, saw it bounce off wall and ceiling
As it roared around the room
Eating up the innocent
I too, smelt the stench of burning flesh
I too, held out melting hands for its embrace
I too, heard the prayers and screams, all cease
And I too, died that night, in Hell
But my ghost, my un-named ghost
Lies waiting for the guilty to unite
And taste the taste of Hell
As they dwell with us this night
Audio Version
NINE ELEVEN
I was stunned as I gazed at the clear blue sky
For I sat there amazed, just wondering why
A plane did appear to suddenly fly
Straight toward me, as I stared out on high
I watched it glide in so low and so fast
And fear gripped my soul to see it fly past
To pierce like an arrow the opposite tower
And explode in a blast of gigantic power
Immersing itself in a molten maze
And covering all with a massive blaze
But as we watched on in sheer disbelief
We sank into shame, inside all our grief
Watching those human fireballs fall
Hearing no scream, hearing no call
’Til a second plane flew into sight
And our shock and our shame reverted to fright
As death cloaked us all on that fateful day
In a strange, surreal and selfish way
We stood and we watched as the other tower collapsed
And any hope we had left then suddenly lapsed
As we all seemed to sense we were now on our own
And rushed round in panic, to find a free phone
To utter our love, to our friends one and all
We surrendered our souls, in that last final call
As we spoke of the things that we just could not say
In the cold and the callous light of the day
We pledged all our love, and then said goodbye
We fell to our knees, and we waited to die
But even then, as our world just fell apart
We turned to our God, with love in our heart
DEDICATED TO THE THREE THOUSAND