Sun wakes up and shines upon the tips of Pennydarren An old man lights his pipe and spends another day remembering All the years and all the fears, just a sweating in a coal mine Walking through the trees and Feeling the breeze, and drinking till 8 or 9 Take me back to the hills Take me back to South Wales Take me back to the hills Take me home Standing in their doorways, Like they do everyday, engaged in nosy chatter A penny for the children, A shilling for the gas, and nothing else much matters Mrs. Davis all alone, just a sitting by the fire Her daughter died the whole town cried, around the funeral pyre