The Blackleg Miner

It’s in the evening after dark
When the blackleg miner creeps to work
With his moleskin pants and his dirty shirt
There goes the blackleg miner
He takes his pick and down he goes
To hew the coal that lies below
And there’s not a woman in this town row
Will look at the blackleg miner
And Delaval is a terrible place
And they rub wet clay in the blackleg’s face
And around the peak they run a race
To catch the blackleg miner
Now don’t you go near the Seghill mine
For across the way they stretch a line
To catch the throat and break the spine
Of the dirty blackleg miner
And they take his picks and his duds as well
And they throw him down the pits of hell
O down you go and fare you well
You dirty blackleg miner