For a many a yor, wu worked in wor shifts
At the pit, up the lonnen, a short waak from wor place.
Nae buses or nowt came by in them days
Thor was just me and wor Jimmy, tegither.

The overman shoots, “Git yersels in the cage!”
An’ wu dropped like a rock te the bottom.
Where the darkness and heat made it feel just like hell, 
As wu waaked to coal fyace tegither.

Eight hoors wes spent layin’ doon on wor sides
As wu hacked and wu hewed at the coal fyace.
With flickerin’ lamps and sweat soaken sarks
We loaded the tubs up, tegither.

Aa’ divvent remember the roof cavin’ in
Or the stones that clattered aroond us.
The dust clagged wor eyes and it blackened wor lungs
As we lay on the tramway tegither.

Aa whispered to him, “Howay bonny lad,
It’s the end o’ wor shift, wu’ll gan hyem noo.”
But his eyes stared at nowt as Aa clutched his cold hand.
Me and Jimmy, me marra, tegither.

Andy Bogle