1. |
Old man
04:57
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2. |
Buried
03:47
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Marching with pics through the grey landscape, in these cold mines was lying a collective fate. Black hands. Chapped hands... Sixteen hours a day, six days a week, working, young & old, for someone we'll never know; and never see. Twenty five bucks a week in a total lack of security. Killing ourselves slowly in the name of this "white gold". Boiling point. "Money also has it's concentration camps". Melting point. We are their slaves, the jews of these concentration camps. There were mines everywhere, thirteen mines and they were all cursed, so was our minds. An illusion of prosperity blinded us from the crimes. Boiling point, from this soil would never come asbestos. Melting point, this economy would be nothing but dust. I'm 89 now, feel old, jaded and pissed, I feel exhausted and my tired heart is sick. My time in the mines left me without a kiss, with a lung cancer as a result of a life of risks. I can barely breathe, my wife died of it. One foot in a casket, I'm also cursed of this. This is the story of a dead romantic, my broken heart is buried in a mine pit.
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3. |
This life ache
03:06
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We are mindless frenchies working for an english elite. A separation in cultures, a wound that'll never be sutured. This schism of the cities is carved into concrete. Don't ever cross the line, you'd be the feast for vultures. Self-segregate this city built out of dust. Spiting in their soup to have some more, guilty of money lust. Non-flammable empire, driven by an iron fist. We are living numbers on their endless price lists. It's getting harder and harder to breathe in this discomfort but the owners keep the truth distorted in the reports. Harder and harder to live in this discontent but the owners keep on pushing us toward dissent. Boss and miners do not live in the same area they don't attend the same churches. They didn't see the seven coffins we saw. We will never know the result of their researches.
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4. |
Better Days
02:48
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My son, he thinks his father is a hero. Coming back every night, he can see me through the window. He asks his mother everyday "why are we so poor when dad is working so hard [...] Why is he so sad when I tell him I want to follow his path, I want to be like him?" But he doesn't know the miner who works hard for his bread tries to pile some money to buy him another way, out of the mines, out of this life. Learning from books, not from the pain of the hard way. I love him so much, I don't want him to live in these dying days. Is it so hard to understand? This town, this faith that there are better days coming out of all the prayers we are forced fed. They say it's just a matter of time. People were praying for hope and change... but I knew there was no god in these mines. All this suffering won't be in vain. We will rise and take what's ours. We are not scared and we have all to gain. We have nothing to sacrifice neither to lose. The rage is building up.
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5. |
On with the strike
04:18
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We all can feel the tension increase day after day. Tired of the law transgressions leading to the graves. All we want is to get back our dignity. We have enough of all the lies. On Valentine's Day Nineteen Fourty-Nine (1949), the syndicate voted for "a violent announcement that a new era had begun". We got out on the streets to chant these four words that started a war. Man abuses man. Money hungry, he steals in honest men's hands. We won't stand still and see, we will stand tall in unity. The Prime Minister and his hostility to all form of socialism declared the miner's strike illegal and sent his troops to enforce the corporate/corrupted power. This intimidation must stop! We won't fear the exile, we won't be intimidated by the heavily armed police force. "Tear gas and fired warning shots in the air" will not stop us, it's not enough... ON WITH THE STRIKE! "One thing that Duplessis could not stand was change". Oppression, repression, police brutality. The National Union ordered the bloody Thursday. Strikebreakers, mass arrests, raid on churches.
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6. |
Born as a man
04:11
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Almost six months now and the companies still have no will to remove the blinds they seem to hold so dear. All they do is playing their game, building their threats. Although they clearly know they are responsable for deaths. For all the deaths. We are starving after all these weeks of strike and strife. And the men of God have been good to us, bringing us help and food. But now I understand it is not the god that does the good. It is not the god that sacrifices his life for us, it is the men. All the unity throughout the province, it is good to see. Trucks full of food coming from everywhere that your god can't see. We demand better working conditions, we demand better air to breathe. And the companies and elected men just want to bring us back to the Middle Ages. But now I understand that it is not the dust that does the evil.
It is not the dust that sacrifices lives for money, it is the men. Maybe the priests helping us denouncing the exploitation don't have the same god as Duplessis. Or maybe the man was born as a man and became what he was willing to be? We can't just let our lives in the hands of a god and see. So What am I supposed to be?
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7. |
Mind decay
04:42
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After the glory comes the fall. The late seventies was only pain for us all. Losing jobs was not our call. But there was a price to pay even though we worked so hard. Nothing is the same, and the fiber is not to blame. Profits have been made. Now they're gone, leaving a ruined place. They lied to us, put dirt on the name and went back to United States. We are angry, we are exhausted, we are left for dead, filled with hatred. And now they ban the mineral in countless countries. Release the informations they were once hidding. Build cancerous lies that belong to the thirties. There was no peace of mind to find in these cold mines. Nothing is the same, and the fiber is not to blame. Profits have been made. Now they're gone, leaving a ruined place. All that's left are the ruins of an abondonned city. The desolate decaying of isolated worker's minds. Beyond these mill structures and tailings, there's something you can't see. Abandonned houses on both side of the road, rusted train tracks leading to the mines. All that's left are the ruins of an abondonned city. The desolate decaying of isolated worker's minds. Beyond these mill structures and tailings, there's something you are scared to see. Abandonned lives on both side of the road, rusted train tracks leading to the minds. Beyond these mill structures and tailings there once was life. Beyond these mill structures and tailings, there once was love. There once was hate, there once was love, there once was life, but there is nothing anymore.
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8. |
The end
01:28
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Carey Québec
Formed in 2011, Carey is a project featuring veterans of the Amiante punk and hardcore scene. The band writes about the
asbestos mining history of their region on a post-hardcore soundtrack. Definitely attached to it's working class roots, Carey offers a breath of fresh air for fans of melodic hardcore and punk.
ALL MERCH :
xbroughtonx.bandcamp.com/merch
... more
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