Bluddy hell Grimmy, it's bleak, but it's also an accurate portrayal of where my ancestors came from, and of an event that is only relatively recent, (America being, after all, a pretty new concept). The song was sung by a fella who is from Stalybridge, where my folks came from, and the words are the best that I can remember through the beer induced mist that surround most of that night after about ten o'clock. Various characters are introduced in the (i suspect many) verses, for instance:
Why, Why must we do this? cries poor hobbling Sue
Because all the looms now have nothing to do.
Think I'll save having a walk over to Rossendale for when it is a little warmer.