It's in the evening after darkwhen the blackleg miner creeps to
work,With his moleskin pants and dirty shirt,There goes the blackleg
miner.Well, he grabs his duds and down he goes,To hew the coal
that lies below,There's not a woman in this town rowwill look at the
blackleg miner.Oh, Delaval is a terrible place,They rub wet clay in the
blackleg's face,And around the heaps they run a footraceto catch the
blackleg miner.And even down near the Seghill mine,Across the way
they stretch a lineTo catch the throat, to break the spineof the dirty
blackleg miner.They grabbed his duds, his picks as well,And they
hoy them down the pit of hell,Down you go, fare thee well,You dirty
blackleg miner.It's in the evening after darkthat the blackleg miner
creeps to work,With his moleskin pants and dirty shirt,There goes the
blackleg miner.So join the union while you may,Don't wait 'til your
dying dayFor that may not be far away,You dirty blackleg miner.
