IT was Bobby the weasel, that gave us the wire

they were closing our factory down;

but we didn't believe him, and we called him a liar

the redundancy letters came round...

We read them in silence, shock, disbelief,

hiding our sorrow, sadness and grief;

It was hard to imagine, it hurt to the core

all we got was a letter - 'we dont need you no more'

The hubs , the stubs, the cranks , con rods,

the pride we took to do our jobs,

the workmanship, the friends we made

lost forever ... away to fade ...

To be a leader in your field,

No.1 and then to yield -

to politics, and dirty tricks,

then cast aside for housing bricks ...

The roaring lion has lost his voice,

sold off for a higher price.

London marches, Bromsgrove's haste

56 years ... 'what a waste' ...

The presses they lie silent now,

no furnace left to stoke;

Graffiti on the walls where men

would share a risque joke ...

Coffin bearing, workers swearing

gave there heart and soul,

sweat and tears, through all the years

rewarded with the dole ...

Garringtons - RIP,

500 people, just like me.

Thinking back, what if only?

thanks for nothing ...'Princess Tony' ...

MDM,

Bromsgrove.

(name and address supplied)