The Tamworth Collier

I am a jolly collier lad,
From Kettlebrook just like me Dad,
And I've worked at pits both good and bad,
And I'm proud to be a miner.

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Swing yer pick and the coal is fallin',
Shovel it quick and clear yer stallin',
Gie it some stick and bear the maulin',
Down on the face yer a different race,
And there ain't no grace when yer diggin' up coal.

I was just fourteen years of age
When first I dropped in a mining cage,
Scared to death for a paltry wage
As I learned to be a miner.

Along the cut in the snow and sleet
In me boots too big for me bony feet.
From a wintry morning down to the heat
I went to be a miner.

But the Glascote lads were golden then,
All decent honest gentle men,
And I wish to God they were here again
That taught me to be a miner.

Along the Watlin' I did go,
To the face at the Coppice, down below,
Swingin' me lamp where the trees do grow
To the roof above the miner.

I've been a miner all me days,
And seen things change in many ways,
But, looking back through the dusty haze,
I'm glad I was a miner.

written by Drummond Smith