Aberfan's Disaster 1966

All things bright and beautiful, the children sang in school,
Voices rang in harmony, a few they played the fool.
Who could guess that come day's end, dead would be nearly all;
That one of seven coal tips would down the mountain fall.

Young lives so full of promise, like flowers just in bud,
The whole young population, wiped out with coal black mud.
Aberfan that dreadful day, was known throughout the land,
As the place where laughter stopped; none could understand.

Coal black sludge had buried them, flowing like a stream,
So fast and without warning, it was no use to scream.
Children with their teachers died, their innocence cruelly slain,
Reporters broke down and cried, at scenes of grief and pain.

Ne'er before had people witnessed such a nightmarish scene,
Right there in their living room, shown on their TV screen.
They listened to the stories, that the survivors told;
They had to rebuild their lives, tales that made blood run cold.

The torment is not over, for the National Coal Board,
Took from the disaster fund, to move six tips that soared
High above the village, where they should never have been;
Money given by millions for bereaved was never seen.

Some feel that a debt is owed, and what a price was paid,
One hundred and forty four coffins in graves were laid.
The children that were missing, for years so few to play,
Aberfan is thriving now, but they'll never forget that day