Lack Of Limits Dear Green Place
It was by the clear Molendinar Burn
Where it meets and runs with the river Clyde
And they tell the tale of the holy one
Who was fishing down by the riverside
A holy man, from Fife he came
His name they say was Kentigern
And by the spot were the fish was caught
The dear green place was born
Now the salmon ran through the river stream
And they salted them by the banks of Clyde
And the faces glowed as the silver flowed
The place arose by the riverside
There was cloth to dye and hose to buy
The traders came from miles around
And they raised a glass to the dear green place
The place that was a town
There is a town that once was green and a river flowed
to the sea
The river flows forever on, but the dear green place is
gone
When the furnace came to fire the iron
And folk were thrown from their farmland
Then the irishmen and the highland men
And the hungry men came with willing hands
They wanted work, a place to live, their empty bellies
needed filled
And the farmyard was another world
From the dirty overcrowded mill
Now you may have heard of the foreign trade
And fortunes made by tobacco lords
But the working man slaved his life away
And an early grave was his sole reward
A dreary room, a crowded slum, disease and hunger
everywhere
And the price to pay was another day
To fight the anger and despair
A thousand years have been here and gone (it is gone)
Since Kentigern saw the banks of Clyde (it is gone)
How many dreams and how many tears (it is gone)
In a thousand years of a city's life (it is gone)
It was by the clear Molendinar Burn (it is gone)
Where it meets and runs with the river Clyde (it is
gone)
Perhaps tomorrow it yet may be (it is gone)
The dear green place again (it is gone)
