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They Never Came Home (Stardust Song)

In the early hours of the morning of Saturday February 14th 1981, a fire occurred at the Stardust Ballroom in Artane, Dublin, in which forty eight persons tragically lost their lives. ~
The song “They Never Came Home”, refers to the victims and families of this tragic event.

They Never Came Home (Stardust Song)

Lyrics: Christopher Andrew “Christy” Moore.
Vocals: Irish folk singer, songwriter and guitarist Christy Moore.

They Never Came Home (Stardust Song)

When St. Valentine’s day comes around once a year,
Our thoughts turn to love, as the time it draws near,
Sweethearts and darlings, husbands and wives,
Pledge love and devotion for the rest of their lives.
As the day turns to evening soon night time does fall,
Young people get ready for the Valentine’s Ball,
As the night rings with laughter, some families still mourn,
The 48 children who never came home.

Chorus
Have we forgotten the suffering and pain,
The survivors and the victims of the fire in Artane,
The mothers and fathers forever to mourn,
The 48 children who never came home.


It was down to the Stardust they all made their way,
The bouncers looked on as they lined up to pay,
The records were spinning, there’s dancing as well
Just how the fire started sure no one can tell.
In a matter of seconds confusion did reign,
The room was in darkness, fire exits were chained,
The firefighters wept for they could not hide,
Their sorrow and anger for those left inside.

Repeat Chorus

Throughout the city the bad news it spread,
There’s a fire in the Stardust, with 48 dead.
Hundreds of children are injured and maimed,
And all just because the fire exits were chained.
Our leaders were shocked, grim statements were made,
They shed tears by the graves, as the bodies were laid,
The injured have waited in vain for 4 years,
It seems like our leaders shed crocodile tears.

Repeat Chorus

Half a million was paid in solicitor’s fees,
A fortune to the owner and his family,
It’s hard to believe that not one penny came,
To the working class people, who suffered the pain.
The days turn to weeks and the weeks turn to years
Our laws favour the rich, or so it appears.
A woman still waits for her kids to come home,
Injustice breeds anger and that’s what’s been done.

Chorus
Let us remember the suffering and pain,
The survivors and victims of the fire in Artane,
The mothers and fathers forever to mourn,
The 48 children who never came home.
END

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