Sunday evening after dark
When the blackleg miner creeps to work
In his mole skin pants and dirty shirt
There goes the blackleg miner
He takes his pick and down he goes
To hew the coal that lies below
There ain't a woman in this damn row
Would look at the blackleg miner
Sneggy is a terrible place
They rub wet clay in the blackleg's face
Around the heath they'll run a race
Just to catch the blackleg miner
Don't you go near the second mine
Across the way they'll stretch a line
To catch the throat and break the spine
Of the dirty blackleg miner
They'll take his boots and duds as well
And they'll throw them down the pit of hell
So down you go and fare ye well
You dirty blackleg miner
So join with me while you may
And don't wait 'til your dying day
For it may not be far away
You dirty blackleg miner