The Girls from the Munitions Factory

 

You’ll see them walk down Sheriff Street

In twos and threes and groups

They’re the lassies from the morning shift

Making bombs for Kitchener’s troops

With broken nails and yellow skin

It’s plain for all to see

They’re the young girls who are working

In the dockland factory

 

All day long they run machines

Or pack the powder well

And polish up the casings of

The eighteen-pounder shells

A list hangs on the canteen wall

So everyone can see

The number of the bombs they’ve made

In the dockland factory

 

Now and then the girls they sing

To help the work along

And often they will pick up on

A rousing rebel song

Of Father Murphy, Shelmalier

And the fight for liberty

All great songs when working

In the dockland factory

 

One girl lost her father

On the first day of the Somme

Some of them have brothers

Who never will return

Others still have sweethearts

Who dream of Ireland free

But no one speaks of Easter Week

In the dockland factory

 

The powder gets into the blood

And underneath their skin

But the thirty bob a week they earn

Is more than many the man

So here’s a cheer for Kitchener’s lads

In far flung countries

And here’s a cheer for all the girls

In the dockland factory

 

You’ll see them walk down Sheriff Street

In twos and threes and groups

They’re the lassies from the morning shift

Making bombs for Kitchener’s troops

With broken nails and yellow skin

It’s plain for all to see

They’re the young girls who are working

In the dockland factory