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rhondda grey - max boyce lyrics

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one afternoon from a council school
a boy came home to play.
with paints and coloured pencils
and his homework for the day.
we’ve got to paint the valley, mam,
for mrs davies art.
what colour is the valley, mam?
and will you help me start?

shall i paint the con club yellow,
and paint the welfare blue?
paint old mr davies red,
and all his pigeons too?
paint the man who kept our ball,
paint him looking sad?
what colour is the valley, mam?
what colour is it dad?

‘dad, if mam goes down the shop
to fetch the milk and bread,
ask her fetch me back some paint-
some gold and white and red.
ask her fetch me back some green,
(the bit i’ve gots gone hard),
ask her fetch me back some green;
ask her, will you dad?

his father took him by the hand
and they walked down albion street,
down past the old rock incline.
to where the council put a seat.
where old men say at the close of day
‘dy’n ni wedi g’neud ein siar’-
and the colour in their faces says
the tools are on the bar.
the tools are on the bar.

and that’s the colour that we want
that no shop has ever sold.
you can’t buy that in woolies, lad,
with your reds and greens and gold.
it’s a colour you can’t buy, lad,
no matter what you pay.
but that’s the colour that we want:
it’s a sort of rhondda grey.

it’s a colour you can’t buy, lad,
no matter what you pay.
but that’s the colour that we want:
they call it rhondda grey.

they call it rhondda grey.

- max boyce lyrics

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