Cause For Complaint – Lyrics

We Regret to Inform (Wynford Jones)

Wake in the morning with hope in your heart

Same thing every day

Waiting for letters you hope that you’ll get

Not sure what they might say

But the story’s the same with each one you get

The more that you read makes you want to forget

The anger you feel when you read

We regret to inform


All of the people who sign on the line

Find it hard to get by

On benefit handouts the government gives

That’s no way to survive

The look in their eyes tells you that they’re sad

They cannot remember life being so bad

They all get the letters that read

We regret to inform


An old man I know fought in the war

For freedom he gave his all

Now forty years later he’s fighting again

This time it’s hunger and cold

For poverty’s got him caught in its trap

Like all the poor people he’s taking the rap

For a government who just say

We regret to inform.


Those were the days (Wynford Jones)

The two up two down in the old part of town

Started to show signs of strain

From the years of abuse like the holes in the shoes

Of the kids playing down the back lane

Then the word went around they’re changing the town

To improve the inhabitants lot

They needed the land on which the house stands

And they’ll take it if we like it or not


And it’s true what the old people say

When they tell you that those were the days


The sold us the scheme the town planners dream

Of modern council estates

A new way of life to end all the strife

The slum clearance order creates

But the old found it strange being told they must change

The only life they’ve ever known

But they hadn’t a say at the end of the day

The seeds of despair had been sown

Yes we all found it strange being told we must change

The only life we’d ever known

We new it would cost, a community lost

Their actions I’ll never condone


Now it’s gone are the walls the old market stalls

The sheds and the cast iron lights

The toilets outside where we all used to hide

When we played “knock down ginger” at night

Ah, but what’s left behind will never remind

My children of what once had been

For concrete and glass has smothered the past

All that they’ve left me are dreams


The Band (Wynford Jones, Geri Thomas & Laurence Eddy)

A clock strikes three in the streets of a valleys town

Little old lady crying as she wanders home

Memories linger of a band playing in the park

Once she was a young girl but time has left its mark


The hand moves on as the seconds tick her life away

Time flies by but still the brass band plays

Still it plays


Old man strolling killing time to waste a day

He throws a stick for his dog to chase and play

Striking clock reminds him with every chime

Of the days he played first cornet in perfect time


The hand moves on as the seconds tick his life away

Time flies by but still the brass band plays

Still it plays


Young boy walking to practice in the welfare hall

Thinking of the future time means nothing at all

With his life before him for their memories he hasn’t a care

Glancing at the clock standing in the market square


The hand moves on as the seconds tick their lives away

Time flies by but still the brass band plays

Still it plays


Dic Penderyn (John Stuart Williams & Geoff Cripps)

As I walked out one summer’s morning

Along the streets of Cardiff town

I heard the sound of shipwrights working

The stroke of hammers beating down

Tell me now what ship you’re building

Upon the cobbles of this square

What kind of mast is that you’re raising

With such a blunt and heavy spar


No ship we build this August morning

No mast we raise upon this street

But a gallows tree for Dic Penderyn

A trap to fall beneath his feet

Remember all poor Dic Penderyn

A random death was his sad fate

Remember when you tell his story

That he found it, hard to hate


Where have you gone you woods of Merthyr

Where have you gone you hunted years

Leaf and life have gone together

Lost in the dust of furnace fires

Where have you gone you birds of Merthyr

Where have you gone these broken years

Gone to the mountains and the heather

No songs now soothe these bitter tears


Cause for Complaint (Wynford Jones & Geri Thomas)

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