A daud ‘o coal hewed oot the the groun
disna weigh a lot yet helped to make a toon.
Doon and doon the miner, further doon wis he
to hew that coal the miner wis doon upon his knee.
Maister in his parlour room, selling aff the coal
nae thoucht to the miner there struggling doon the hole.
They fancy palaces built yet miners ne’er laid a brick
struggling wi damp and gas an only got the s**t.
The holes jist got deeper the Bings higher rose
nae thoucht to hooses above as deeper doon shaft goes.
Bings arny a bony sicht wi slag an dirt anaw
hooses scattered roon aboot aye suffer from the blaw.
Wains skitter roon the toon an bings ur playgruns tae
mithers seeking oot the kids cry up the bing the day!
Wi gum and slag and coal in bags an slidin doon in trays
fitbaw wis the drug ‘o men the bing the wains richt craze.
We playd in slag an dirt aw day t’licht was stole awa
then in the street licht end the day playn at fitbaw.
Miners didnae aw git hame the bing did no come cheap
we didna know that some ‘o them sleep b’neath oor feet.
The above poem was written for Historic Hamilton by Kit Duddy