“A race for rats, an’ that’s no who we are;
we’re Men wie pride, who seek but honest work” –
“Whilst ye may trim tae bone an’ chew cigar,
we’ve borne the brunt a’ cuts an’ didnae shirk” –
“Enough’s, enough” twas cry heard o’er quayside
When talk a’ closure hung fae shipyard’s Crane
“No more will we adhere, nor you deride” –
“No more will bend the knee an’ tak the blame”
Wie orders still tae fill, he planned ‘Work-In’
All obligations met as pre-ordained
Invoked the Good Lord’s words fae deep within
“To lose one’s soul, midst all such profit gain’d”
Twas Lennon (John) who saw in him a Man
Who like himself ‘Imagined’ diff’rent plan