When working ceased and times went bad
Folks had no cash to spend;
I trusted out what stock I had,
In hopes that times would mend.
For years I’d worked and struggled hard,
A little cash to save,
I’d sailed through every trying storm,
And battled every wave.
But now, alas! where is my stock –
Where is my little bark?
‘Tis lost, ‘tis shivered on a rock,
And all around is dark.
And who shall save the little crew –
My children and my wife?
Must we all starve, and bid adieu
Unto the storms of life?
I through the darkness now can spy
A lifeboat near at hand;
But O! alas it doth deny
A passage to the land.
Away, away, it slowly speeds,
Nor hears a neighbour’s cry;
To serve a foreign tradesman’s needs
‘Twill pass a neighbour by.
O! thou unfeeling lifeboat crew –
O! ruthless Droylsden gents!
Each Droylsden shopkeeper ye screw,
And more than one laments.