There was a man called Norman Brown,
The murderin' coppers shot him down,
They shot him down in Rothbury town.
A working man called Norman Brown.
"An honest man," the Parson said,
And dropped the clods upon his head.
"But honest man or not, he's dead,"
And that's the end of Norman Brown.
Coal bosses wiped their hands and sighed
"It is a pity that he died.
It will inflame the countryside,
And all because of Norman Brown."
Norman Brown, Norman Brown,
The murderin' coppers shot him down.
They shot him down in Rothbury town,
A working man called Norman Brown.
He was a very simple man,
Honest and quiet, yet he became,
The mate of every working man
And every miner knows his name.
At pit top meetings and on strike,
In every little mining town,
When miners march for bread and right
There marches honest Norman Brown.
He thunders at the pit top strike,
His voice is in the women's tears.
With banner carried shoulder high
He's singing down the struggling years.
He cannot sleep, he cannot rest
Until the dawn has given him,
And every worker by his side
A new world for mankind to win.
And though they drop big stones on him
And though they bury him deep down,
He mutely calls from earth and mine.
You cannot silence Norman Brown.
When miners labour for a land
That is their own in field and town,
With joy shining in his face
There works a man called Norman Brown.
A miner's pick is in his hand.
His song is shouted through the land,
A land that's free and broad and brown,
That land that bred us Norman Brown.
There was a man called Norman Brown,
The murderin' coppers shot him down,
They shot him down in Rothbury Town,
A working man called Norman Brown.
"An honest man;" the Parson said,
And dropped the clods upon his head.
"But honest man; or not, he's dead,
And that's the end of Norman Brown."
Coal bosses wiped their hands and sighed.
"It is a pjty that he died.
It will inflame the countryside,
And all because of Norman Brown."
Norman Brown, Norman Brown,
The murderin' coppers shot you down.
They shot you down in Rothbury Town.
To live forever .... Norman Brown.
--DOROTHY HEWETT.
Notes
From the NSW Newspaper The Tribune 2 Jan 1957 p. 3.
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