Dead River

  where once men toiled and created monsters of steel, where once hardship and sweat poured forth. These days are gone now for this is a "dead river" where once men would sit and chatter eating butties prepared by calloused hands, where once huge hulls adorned the horizon but those days are gone now for this is a "dead river" Thompsons, pickersgills with an army of weather beaten faces, cloth caps and rolled cigarettes, no more will they be seen for this is a "dead river" the sound of a riveters mate clanging with his walloper! the shout of the welder hailing for rods! tea you could stand a spoon in brewed continuously for the hard men of the yards, those days are gone now for this is a "dead river" no phoenix for the "wear" no promise of a return to the great ships of yesteryear, for this is a "dead river" lonely shuffling cloth capped old men strolling idols by where the slipways gave way to the glorious past, they stop and stare at what used to be, but no more for this is a "dead river" now a "dead river"