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
	That would look at the blackleg miner.
	Delaval is a terrible place,
	And they rub wet clay in the blackleg's face,
	And around the heaps they run a race
	To catch the blackleg miner.
	Don't you go near the Seghill mine,
	Across the way they stretch a line
	To catch the throat and break the spine
	Of the dirty blackleg miner.
	Then they grab his duds and his pick as well,
	And they throw him down the pits of hell.
	O down you go and fare you well,
	You dirty blackleg miner.
	So join the union while you may,
	And don't wait 'til your daying day,
	For that's not so far away.
	You dirty blackleg miner.
	And 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.