(F. Hennessey)

My Father was a miner as his Father was before him,
They always have been proud to work the load,
Since they fell 'neath Grogan's axe,
All the lads have had the sack,
And away to work in London I must go.

Farewell you colliery workers, the muffler and the cap,
Farewell you Rhonda Valley girls I never will come back,
For the mines they are a closing,
The valleys they're all doomed,
There's no work in the Rhonda boys,
We'll be in London soon.

No more the Chapel singing that long ago has left us,
In the public house no more the miner's song,
For the pit fields they are stopping,
And the population's dropping,
And I can't afford to stay here very long.

Tre Evril and Tre Orky, Tony Penley and Tre Ovet,
Sweet Rhonda and Tre Barry all adieu,
For I can no longer wait while parliament debates,
So a fond farewell is what I'll sing to you