The Red Jacket Stream by Chris Hastings and Huw Pudner We were digging together On the banks of the red jacket stream There was Matthew from Merthyr Tom Kelly from Clare And Nathan from Spain With his wild gypsy hair We worked on the Tennant Tramped from Brecon down to Swansea Bay Slept under canvas Wrapped in thin blankets And last summer's hay We worked all the summer long On the banks of the red jacket stream The small beer and malt bitter Loosened our tongues Quenched our thirst It was good to be young The sweat ran like rivers As we swung those big hammers down And I cursed the hard stones That crushed my poor hands As we pounded the ground The winter was cold that year On the banks of the red jacket stream The ice froze our breath The wind blew from the north And we were close to death As we followed the course We shared our very last crust And we swore we would never return To the mud and the rocks and the dust And the banks of the red jacket stream. The years have ran ahead From the banks of the red jacket stream Its quiet here now Only the sound Of the wind in the reeds The work has all gone And the men have moved on And yet I still recall My good friends one and all Matthew from Merthyr Tom Kelly from Clare And Nathan the boy from Spain With the wild gypsy hair. Its gone like my dream But last night we were together again On the banks of the red jacket stream. Together again Huw Pudner and Chris Hastings, songwriters from Swansea, wrote ‘The Red Jacket Stream’ about the building of the Tennant Canal.