Union Songs

Weevils in the Flour

A poem by Dorothy Hewett©1963 Dorothy Hewett
music by Mike Leyden©Mike Leyden 1965

On an island in a river
How that bitter river ran
I grew on scraps of charity
In the best way that you can
On an island in a river
Where I grew to be a man.

Chorus
For dole bread is bitter bread
Bitter bread and sour
There's grief in the taste of it
There's weevils in the flour
There's weevils in the flour

And just across the river
Stood the mighty B.H.P.,
Poured pollution on the waters,
Poured the lead of misery
And its smoke was black as Hades
Rolling hungry to the sea.

In those humpies by the river
Where we lived on dole and stew,
While just across the river
Those greedy smokestacks grew,
And the hunger of the many
Filled the bellies of the few.

On an island in a river
How that bitter river ran
It broke the banks of charity
And it baked the bread of man
On an island in a river
Where I grew to be a man.

Last chorus:
For dole bread is bitter bread
There's a weevils in the flour
But men grow strong as iron upon
Black bread and sour,
Black bread and sour.

Notes

Many thanks to Dorothy Hewett and Mike Leyden for permission to include this song in the Union Songs collection

Weevils in the Flour was published in Australian Tradition, November 1965 and is sung here by Declan Affley, from the 1987 memorial LP 'Declan Affley'

here is the original poem:

Where I Grew To Be a Man

On an island in a river,
How that bitter river ran!
I grew on scraps of charity
In the best way that you can,
On that island in the river
Where I grew to be a man.

       For dole bread is bitter bread,
              Black bread and sour,
       There's grief in the taste of it,
       There's weevils in the flour.

And just across the river
Stood the mighty B.H.P.,
Poured pollution on the waters,
Poured the lead of misery,
And its smoke was black as Hades
Rolling hungry to the sea.

In those humpies by the river,
We lived on dole and stew,
And just across the river
Those greedy smokestacks grew,
And the hunger of the many
Filled the bellies of the few.

Oh! Winter on the river
Was a time of bitter cold,
A time of hungry bellies
And children growing old,
And men with nothing else to do
But watch the river roll.

       For dole bread is bitter bread,
              Black bread and sour,
       There's grief in the taste of it,
       There's weevils in the flour.

Oh! cats on the river,
And men on the tide,
They all became a commonplace
On our river side,
And even mothers couldn't weep
When new-born babies died.

Oh! black was the steel town,
And black was the smoke,
Cold-black the river water
That can gag a man and choke,
Till he dreams up a furnace fire
Of his own to stoke.

We met beside the river
With the ghosts of good men drowned,
We picketed the steel mill
And we banked our hunger down
With words that stung and deeds that hung
Like live things on the town.

       For dole bread is bitter bread,
       There's weevils in the flour,
       There's rage in the taste of it.
              Black bread and sour!

On an island in a river,
How that bitter river ran!
It broke the banks of charity,
It baked the bread of man,
On that island in the river
Where I grew to be a man.

       For dole bread is bitter bread,
       There's weevils in the flour,
       But men grow strong as iron upon
              Black bread and sour!

Return to top of page

union songs..........a selection by mark gregory