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
Chorus
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
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.
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.