Mark Allen
A Song by John Warner©John Warner 1997(Tune: Derby Ram)
The roof Mark Allen fell from
Was a hangman's trap of shame,
But from the day Mark Allen died
The Union sings his fame
Chorus
He's every worker's brother,
He is the Union's son,
And in Mark Allen's memory
We'll fight till we have won.
He went to inspect safety,
A Union- worker's right,
But those who had the contract
Tried to bar him from the site.
You contractors* with cheap, tin souls,
The truth you can't deny,
It was your unsafe practices
That let Mark Allen die.
"The Union doesn't pay your wage,
You climb back up that wall" -
So frightened young men went back up
And saw Mark Allen fall.
You bureaucrats of government
Who blame him for his death,
His blood is on your murderer's hands,
You lie with every breath.
Mark Allen's aching mother weeps,
Mark Allen's father grieves,
The Union's weeping with them,
But it's rolling up its sleeves,
* more forceful noun may be substituted