Lyrics

Part 1.  The Working Life

Down from the sunlight, boys,
Swinging in a cage
Life underground,
Mirrors the black face mole
bathed in shadow light

Beat the drum boys!
Dust and misery
for a farthing at Wallsend colliery

Out in the morning, we’ll be far, far away
from lamps in the burrows
to clear blue overhead…with our families

So beat the drum boys!
Black coal takers
One more round and we’ll make it home again…over the hills
 
Down in the tunnels where devils may lie
There’s no one to turn to, my ‘marra’ and I
Counting our pieces like hand crafted gold
Hearing our hearts like the hammers of old
Strike! Strike! Strike! upon the seam
Strike! Strike! and try not hit a beam

Couched like some victims and forcing our way
up through the mixture of iron and clay under toe…

Then in a second, a moment of cold
an instant of silence has taken control of my soul
of my soul…under the hills

So beat the drum boys! Black coal takers
There’s no more time for memory makers here…

Part 2. The Cave–in (Instrumental)

Part 3.  Auld Nick & Co.

There’s nothing moving
And I can’t feel my legs
I hear someone breathing
and there’s a Davy by my head
Is anyone else alive down here?
Help is on its way, never fear boys...

Minutes passing slowly
In the damp and the black
There’s no more moving,
from the wall at the back
will they get to the shaft base in time?
Ponies and dead bodies in the gloom and grime

Imagine myself in the noon day sun
or standing in the summers’ rain
will I ever be home again?
I’m locked beneath a frame
I’ll run wild through the trees and the hay
and wash in the Northern Seas
If God is on our side this time
He’ll never let Auld Nick take me away

There’s no one coming…to set us free
we’re all alone now, just Jack and Me

Imagine myself in the Noon day sun
or standing in the summers’ rain
will I ever be home again?
I’m locked beneath a frame
I’ll run wild through the trees and the hay
and wash in the Northern Seas
If God is on our side this time
He’ll never let Auld Nick take me away

Part 4. The Working After-Life

Down in the tunnels where devils may lie
There’s only the ghosts of my ‘marra’ and I
Guarding the pieces like hand crafted gold
Echoes of axes like hammers of old
Strike! Strike! Strike! upon the seam
Strike! Strike! and try not hit a beam

The pit mouth was sealed and the town moved away
Leaving the mixture of iron and clay far below….under the hills

So beat the drum boys! Black coal takers
There’s no more time for memory makers here