---

Quiet days upon the river,
quiet times in the shipping trade.
No more freighters to deliver,
no more tankers to be made.
Blow of hammer gone forever,
clash of metal, squeal and din.
No more wailing of the hooter,
flushing out a thousand men.

They can't bring back this old shipbuilding,
no returning to your father's ways;
but these reminders by the water
linger on from yesterday.

Rows of slipways stand forgotten.
Empty yards with rotten frames.
Silent quays lie abandoned;
they once were busy in better days.
This old shipbuilding gone forever,
no more flags on launching day.
Days of pride and days of sorrow,
were they as golden as they say?

They can't bring back this old shipbuilding,
no returning to your father's ways;
but these reminders by the water
linger on from yesterday.

Quiet days upon the river,
quiet times upon the quay.
High above, a seagull passes over
down the river and out towards the sea.

They can't bring back this old shipbuilding,
no returning to your father's ways;
but these reminders by the water
linger on from yesterday.

They can't bring back this old shipbuilding,
no returning to your father's ways;
but these reminders by the water
linger on from yesterday.

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