There was a very simple man,
Honest and quiet, yet he became
The mate of every working man,
And every miner knows his name.
Oh Norman Brown, oh Norman Brown
The murderin' coppers they shot him down,
They shot him down in Rothbury town,
A working man called Norman Brown.
"An honest man," the parson said,
And dropped the clods upon his head,
But honest man or not, he's dead
And that's the end of Norman Brown.
Coal bosses wiped their hands and sighed,
"It is a pity that he died."
It will inflame the countryside,
And all because of Norman Brown.
At pit-top meetings and on strike
In every little mining town,
When miners march for bread and rights
There marches honest Norman Brown.
He thunders at the pit-top strike,
His voice is in the women's tears,
With banner carried shoulder-high
He's singing down the struggling years.
A miner's pick is in his hand,
His song is shouted through the and,
A land that's free and broad and brown,
The land that bred us Norman Brown.
Oh Norman Brown, oh Norman Brown,
The murderin' coppers they shot him down.
They shot him down in Rothbury town,
To live forever ... Norman Brown.
Honest and quiet, yet he became
The mate of every working man,
And every miner knows his name.
Oh Norman Brown, oh Norman Brown
The murderin' coppers they shot him down,
They shot him down in Rothbury town,
A working man called Norman Brown.
"An honest man," the parson said,
And dropped the clods upon his head,
But honest man or not, he's dead
And that's the end of Norman Brown.
Coal bosses wiped their hands and sighed,
"It is a pity that he died."
It will inflame the countryside,
And all because of Norman Brown.
At pit-top meetings and on strike
In every little mining town,
When miners march for bread and rights
There marches honest Norman Brown.
He thunders at the pit-top strike,
His voice is in the women's tears,
With banner carried shoulder-high
He's singing down the struggling years.
A miner's pick is in his hand,
His song is shouted through the and,
A land that's free and broad and brown,
The land that bred us Norman Brown.
Oh Norman Brown, oh Norman Brown,
The murderin' coppers they shot him down.
They shot him down in Rothbury town,
To live forever ... Norman Brown.
envoyé par Alessandro - 12/10/2009 - 15:12
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Testo trovato su Mudcat
L'Hunter Valley nel New South Wales in Australia è una zona oggi famosa per i vasti vigneti e l'ottimo vino che vi si produce.
Ma la principale risorsa dell'economia rimane da sempre l'estrazione del carbone.
Nel 1929, la grande depressione mondiale partita dagli USA colpì pure l'Australia. Le compagnie minerarie (la Rio Tinto, in particolare) decurtarono il salario ai lavoratori e, al loro rifiuto, chiusero le miniere e poi cercarono di riavviare la produzione ricorrendo al crumiraggio. A Rothbury, il 16 dicembre 1929, 4000 minatori scesero in strada per protestare contro l'arroganza delle compagnie, spalleggiate dal governo conservatore, e per impedire ai crumiri di entrare nei pozzi... La polizia sparò sui manifestanti uccidendo Norman Brown, un minatore di 29 anni, e ferendo un'altra cinquantina di persone.
L'anno seguente i minatori capitolarono e tornarono al lavoro accettando una paga ridotta del 12,5%...
La miniera di carbone di Rothbury chiuse nel 1974...
(fonte: en.wikipedia)