Haswell

Each day they lower me into a hole

14 hours underground digging for coal

I started in the mine

When I was 7 years old

And I'll finish in the mine

When I am broken and cold

We rise at dawn and head

Out in the mist

We scrape the ground just to exist

Six mouths to feed and living expense

We each earn two shilling and six pence

And as I grip that rope

And descend into the ground

I think of my family, I think of the town

I think of my children mining at my side

And the light I will miss

As night turns into night

And a spark from my pick

Ignites the coal dust in the air

A blinding flash of light

And we are whipped into the flare

95 souls are lost into the night

And only four boys got out that pit alive

And as I grip that rope and descend

Into the ground, I think of my family

I think of the town

I think of my children mining at my side

And the light I will miss

As night turns into night

And as I grip that rope

And descend into the ground

I think of my family, I think of the town

I think of my children mining at my side

And the light I will miss

As night turns into night