Billy Elliot the Musical Live Page #7

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of the Easington District Miner's Welfare

temporary soup kitchen

annual Christmas party!

I'm deeply moved.

Now, we may be eight months into the

strike, but are we downhearted?

No!

Come on, you can do better than that.

Are we downhearted?

No!

That's more like it!

So, let's make this the best

Christmas party we've ever had.

But before we do that,

it's time to draw the winning ticket

in the special meat prize draw raffle.

But before we do that, I would just like to

thank the various groups

who have donated meat

to the special Christmas strike pot.

Firstly,

Darlington Socialist Group Karate Circle

have given us a couple of chops.

Hetton-Le-Hole Amateur Operatic Society

have given us a load of tripe

and a pile of ham.

And finally,

I would just like to thank our

lovely comrades from Newcastle upon Tyne.

- Where are they? Give us a wave!

Oh, there they are, Tony.

The Newcastle upon Tyne

Polytechnic Lesbian and Gay Caucus...

...who have given us

some mince and faggots,

and a nice juicy Cumberland ring.

So, here's me best mate

and sparring partner, Mr Billy Elliot.

And the winning ticket is, not that one.

Eight and four, 84.

So, if you've got this ticket,

come up and see Santa

and he'll give you a nice piece of meat.

Oh, yes, he will.

Hey, Santa!

Whatta?

Can you hear it in the distance?

Can you sense it far away?

Ooh!

Is it old Rudolph the Reindeer?

Is it Santa on his sleigh?

- It's heading up to Easington

- It's heading up to Easington

- It's coming down the Tyne

- It's coming down the Tyne

Oh, it's bloody Maggie Thatcher

and Michael Heseltine

So Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher

May God's love be with you

We all sing together in one breath

Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher

We all celebrate today

'Cause it's one day closer to your death

Two, three, four, look.

Two, three, four, attack!

And now, welcome to the stage

a couple of volunteers

from the Sunderland Barnardo's.

They've come to raid your stockings

and to steal your Christmas pud

But don't be too downhearted

It's all for your own good

The economic infrastructure

must be swept away

To make way for business parks

And lower rates of pay

So Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher

May God's love be with you

We all sing together in one breath

Moo!

Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher

We all celebrate today

'Cause it's one day closer to your death

And now,

have we got a surprise for you.

The Easington District Miner's Welfare

present their political puppet

workshop forum!

Okay, lads, let 'em have it!

And they've brought their fascist boot boys

And they've brought their boys in blue

And the whole Trade Union Congress

will be at the party, too

And they'll all hold hands together

All standing in a line

'Cause they're privatizing Santa

This merry Christmastime

So Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher

May God's love be with you

We all sing together in one breath

Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher

We all celebrate today

'Cause it's one day closer to your death

Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher

May God's love be with you

Yeah!

We all sing together in one breath

All together now!

Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher

We all celebrate today

'Cause it's one day closer to your death

Oh, my darling, oh, my darling

Oh, my darling Heseltine

You're a tosser, you're a wanker

And you're just a Tory swine

Yeah!

Right, who's next to give we a song?

No, Dad, no!

No, no, no, no, no.

Not after last year.

Now, I can see just the man,

Mr Jackie Elliot!

Give us Big Spender, Jackie!

Big Spender! Big Spender!

I'm not singing Big Spender,

I'll sing you all an old folk song.

No, we don't want an old folk song.

It's boring.

It was one of my Sarah's favourites.

It was three years ago last week she died.

- Dad, come on, man.

- I'm all right.

Oh, once I was a young man

I looked over vales and hills

Saw myself a future

of riches and of thrills

But on me 15th birthday

I paid my union dues

And they sent me deep into the ground

Oh, the winter wind can blow me colder

Oh, the summer's heat can parch me dry

But I'll not leave here for a fortune

I shall never leave here till I die

Oh, once I had a family

Sons to make you proud

They have gone and left me

And I count the time out loud

Now I am an old man

Just waiting for me turn

Till they send me back into the ground

Oh, the winter wind can blow me colder

Oh, the summer's heat can parch me dry

But I'll not leave here for a fortune

I shall never leave here till I die

Oh, the winter wind can blow me colder

Oh, the summer's heat can parch me dry

But I'll love these dark,

dark hills forever

And I won't leave them until I die

Once, I loved a woman

She meant all the world to me

We dreamed ourselves a future

As far as I could see

I was only 37

When they took her down from me

And they buried her...

I cannot.

Oh, the winter wind can blow me colder

Oh, the summer's heat can parch me dry

But I'll love these dark,

dark hills forever

And I won't leave them until I die

Merry Christmas, Dad.

Merry Christmas, Son.

Come on, let's go home.

- Well, a f***in great Christmas

this has been. -

I know. It's been a right load of shite.

All I got was an atlas

from the support group. Oi.

Count yourself lucky,

all I got was a bloody football kit,

and a signed photo of Kevin f***in' Keegan!

But I swapped it

for a brand new Cindy the nurse!

Did you ever go back and see that wife?

What wife?

Debbie's mum. The ballet wife. Oi!

No. I've packed it in.

Really?

Well, maybe it's for the best.

At least you won't be running away

to that ballet school, will you?

- What's good about that, like?

- Well, I'd miss you.

We'd best be going.

Oh, it's freezin' in here.

Wait.

What?

Come here.

What are you doing?

I'm just warming your hands.

You're not a puff or owt?

What gave you that impression?

Aren't me hands cold?

I quite like it.

Just 'cause I like ballet,

doesn't mean I'm a puff, you know.

You won't tell anyone, will ya?

Here, put this on.

Cush!

Ah! It's f***ing freezing in here!

It's a bit small.

Oh, no, I'm not sure this red

will go with me tutu.

Oh, shut up, man!

Come on, show us a bit of ballet then.

No, I've told you, I've packed it in.

Howay, just a little bit.

Just a

little bit.

Just a little bit.

Just a little...

Oh!

I can see why they call it The Nutcracker!

Come on, man.

Well, you do some dancing then.

We'd best be goin', my dad'll be after us.

Your dad's as pissed as a platypus.

No, he's not!

Well, a right barrel of laughs you are.

If you want, you can keep the tutu.

Can I? Cush!

You're not goin' home in it, are you?

'Course I am. No one will notice.

See you, then.

Yeah. Merry Christmas, Michael.

Go home, Billy! Go home!

What can I do for you?

I was looking to speak to Mrs Wilkinson.

Sandra!

Friend of yours.

Oh, hello.

How much is it going to cost, then?

And a very Merry Christmas to you, too.

I've been doing a lot of thinking.

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