The pithead gates are locked and sheep graze on the hill,

No coal comes from the pit now, the mine is quiet and still.

The Valley too is quiet now, no coal dust in the air,

Machinery is rusting, with nobody working there.

The Village choir's disbanded, no songs sung in the hall,

And the little church's half empty, as attendance starts to fall.

People out in search of work, have had to move away,

House's sold or empty, start to crumble with decay.

So open up those pits again, don't pass our Valleys by,

We know there's coal down there below, don't let our Valleys die.