OK, so here's my attempt at a transcription of the Battlefield Band recording. Questionable parts marked with question marks

ONE MINER'S LIFE / THE IMAGE OF GOD
(Ed Pickford / Joe Corrie)

Now you are born, another to feed
Small are your wants lad, but great is your need
For the work is scarce, your dad's on the dole
And they want no more men 'cause they've got too much coal

Now you're a lad, you play in the street
Fish in [Fishin'] the burn and performin' great feats
While the pitheaps stand [pithead stands??], markin' the graves
Of miners and sons and the lives that they gave

CHORUS
Who knows who you're crying for
Who knows who made us so poor
Who knows what you're going to do
Who knows what's in store for you

Now you've left school, a man at thirteen
Your mother is grim as she looks at the scene
As she makes your bait [bed?], you're off down below
And away to the pit with your father you go

CHORUS

Now you're a man, you work in the mine
With fightin' and strugglin', you're old 'fore your time
For the work is hard, conditions are bad
And you promised your sons all that you've never had

CHORUS

Crawlin' aboot like a snail in the mud,
Covered wi' clammy blae,
ME, made after the image o' God -
Is that no' laughable, tae.

Howkin' away at a mountain o' stane,
Gaspin' for want o' air,
The sweat makin' streams doon my bare back-bane,
And my knees a' hauckit and sair.

Strainin' and cursin' the hale shift through,
Half-starved, half-blin', half-mad,
And the gaffer he says, "Less dirt in that coal
Or ye go up the pit, my lad."

So I gie my life tae the Nimmo squad
For eicht and fower a day.
Me! Made after the image o' God -
Is that no' laughable, tae.

With the muck in my nails and a lungful of dust
I work in the dark all the day
So pardon me then if I don't gi' a smile
I'm made in His image, you see.

Now you are old, you've worked all you can
But they're closin' the pits and it's part of their plan
It's to cut out the waste, make the mines pay
So to hell wi' you now lad, best be on your way

CHORUS