It’s in the evening after dark,
When the blackleg miner creeps to work,
With his moleskin pants and dirty shirt,
There gaans the blackleg miner!

Well he takes his tools and doon he gaans
To hew the coal that lies below,
There's not a woman in this town-row
Will look at the blackleg miner.

Oh, Delaval is a terrible place.
They rub wet clay in the blackleg’s face,
And aroond the heaps they run a foot race,
To catch the blackleg miner!

So, divvint gaan near the Seghill mine.
Across the way they stretch a line,
To catch the throat and break the spine
Of the dirty blackleg miner.

They grab his duds and his pick as well,
And they hoy them down the pit of hell.
Doon ye gaan, and fare ye well,
You dirty blackleg miner!

So join the union while you may.
Divvin’t wait till your dying day,
For that may not be far away,
You dirty blackleg miner!