Staffordshire Men
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
There's many a task for the English folk
And a man's a man always
Who delves the coal and iron ore
And shapes the potters' clay
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
There are forty shires that light their fires
And bless the iron strong
And the china bake the potters make
As they sing the Stafford song
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
We come of a race of yeomen bold
Whose drink is the best of beer
Our fields feed beasts for the Christmas feast
And you may share our cheer
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
We marshal our ranks on the grey pit banks
And our lads on the football field
If the cause is right, we are game to fight
We never were known to yield
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
There's many a task for the English folk
And a man's a man always
Who delves the coal and iron ore
And shapes the potters' clay
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
There are forty shires that light their fires
And bless the iron strong
And the china bake the potters make
As they sing the Stafford song
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
We come of a race of yeomen bold
Whose drink is the best of beer
Our fields feed beasts for the Christmas feast
And you may share our cheer
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
We marshal our ranks on the grey pit banks
And our lads on the football field
If the cause is right, we are game to fight
We never were known to yield
For this is the song of the Staffordshire men
In forge, in kiln, in mine
Our fires shall burn, and our mill-wheels turn
And the Knot shall be our sign
Credits
Writer(s): Traditional
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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