Now all you jolly collier lads, listen unto me You know how we are sore oppressed by masters' tyranny For improvement of the mines, no leisure time is found Our children are neglected to be working underground. Our masters are tyrannical and that they must confess, They overtax their workmen and do them sore oppress; No other occupation so dangerous can be found We cannot call our lives our own while working underground. The sailor he does plough the main and perils does go through But he sees the danger coming, which a collier cannot do; With fallen roofs and firedamp the records can be found How hundreds yearly lost their lives by working underground. Frae Newtongrange and Arniston, frae Polton and Gorebrig, Frae Birkenside tae Lasswade, Cockpen and Bonnyrigg, Frae Rosewell tae Newbattle the Lothian men a' say We're no the likes of ither men that works an eight hour day.
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