Shipyard - Sting, Jimmy Nail, Brian Johnson

Ah me name is Jackie White

I’m the foreman of the yard

And ya don’t mess with Jackie on this quayside

I’m as hard as iron plate

Woe betide you if you’re late

When we have to push a boat out on the spring tide

Now they could die and hope for Heaven

But they’d need to work their shift

And I’d expect them all to back me to the hilt

And if St. Peter at his gate were to ask them why they’re late?

Why, they’d tell him that they had to get a ship built

We build battleships and cruisers (ah)

For her Majesty the Queen

Super tankers for Onassis, (ah)

And all the classes in between

We built the greatest shipping tonnage

That the world has ever seen

And the only life we’ve known is in the shipyard

Now, gentlemen

Steel in the stockyard

Iron in the soul

We’ll conjure up a ship

Where there used to be a hole

But we don’t know what we’ll do

If the yard gets sold

For the only life we’ve known is in the shipyard

Why are we makin' nice with this bloke if he’s just out to shut us down?

We’re trying to make him understand

It’s about bloody time he understood me then!

My name is Billy Thompson

I’m shop steward for the Union

And me dream is proletarian revolution

Comrades, brothers, fellow travelers and others

Class struggle is the means of dialectic evolution

And Das Kapital’s me bible

So the ruling class are liable

And quoting Marx and Engels, it’s entirely justifiable

If the workers revolution here is

Ever to be viable

We become the rightful owners of the shipyard

Look, there’s a mixture of emotions

Hatred, gratitude and pride

And you hate yourself for crying

But that’s difficult to hide

For there’s a sadness in the launching

And ye worry what’s ahead

And that worry never leaves ye

No, it keeps on nagging in your head

So ye pray to God for orders

But ye’ll worry till ya dead…

Until they bury your remains

In the blacksmith’s shed

And the only life ye’ve known is in the shipyard

Steel in the stockyard

Iron in the soul

We’ll conjure up a ship

Where there used to be a hole

But we don’t know what we’ll do

If the yard gets sold

For the only life we’ve known is in the shipyard

My name is Peggy White

And I’ve nursed them through their injuries

And their cuts and wounds I’ve bound

Busted arms, and busted heads

Broken backs and broken legs

I’d often put them in a splint

Before we put them in the ground

And the fumes from all the welding

Where the poison air is hung

And the toxic radiation

That’s been blackening their tongues

I’d be giving them an aspirin

They’d be coughing up their lungs

It was all they ever got here in this shipyard

Jackie.

Far be it from me to intrude, but I’m wondering if I might say a few

words

Of course, Father.

The floor is yours

Well, me name is James O’Brien, it’s from Ireland I was sent

To be the pastor of this flock and your spiritual guide

I might suggest to all of you heathens

What you might give up for Lent

But ye won’t give up your dignity

Ye can’t give up your pride

And ye can’t give up your history, ye can’t give up the ghost

For on the last day of judgment, a heavenly host

Will descend on this community to separate the just

From the damned and the wicked and the ones ye couldn’t trust

And there are times when the good Lord might ask for sacrifice

But it’s the devil that be tempting ye, even if he’s paid you twice

For their souls cannot be purchased as they haven’t got a price

And they won’t give up

No, we won’t give up, we won’t give up your/our lives here in the shipyard

Mind you, I once gave up the drinking, was it 1963?

It seems as though sobriety was not the thing for me

It was the worst three hours I ever hope to see

Steel in the stockyard

Iron in the soul

We’ll conjure up a ship

Where there used to be a hole

And the ship sets sail and the tail gets told

And the only life we’ve known is in the shipyard

Steel in the stockyard

Iron in the soul

We’ll get the bastard finished

Or we’ll end up on the dole

But we

Never minded working

In the rain and the cold

Shootin' rivets in the bulkheads

Welding in the hold

But we don’t know what we’ll do

If the yard gets sold

The only

Life we’ve ever known is in the shipyard