In Auchengeich there stands a pit
The wheel above it isna turnin',
For on a grey September morn,
The fires o' Hell below are burnin'.
Though in below the coal lay rich,
It's richer noo for all that burnin'.
For forty seven brave men are deid,
Tae wives and sweethearts nane returnin'.
The seams are thick in Auchengeich,
The coal below is black and glistenin'.
But the cost o' coal is faur ower dear,
For human lives there is nae reckonin'.
For coal is black and coal is red,
And coal is rich ayont a treasure.
It's black wi' wark and red wi' blood,
Its richness noo in lives we measure.
Far better that we'd never wrought,
A thousand years o' wark and grievin'.
The coal is black like the mournin' shroud,
The women left behind their weavin'.
In Auchengeich there stands a pit,
The wheel above it isnae turnin',
For on a grey September morn,
The fires o' Hell below are burnin'
The wheel above it isna turnin',
For on a grey September morn,
The fires o' Hell below are burnin'.
Though in below the coal lay rich,
It's richer noo for all that burnin'.
For forty seven brave men are deid,
Tae wives and sweethearts nane returnin'.
The seams are thick in Auchengeich,
The coal below is black and glistenin'.
But the cost o' coal is faur ower dear,
For human lives there is nae reckonin'.
For coal is black and coal is red,
And coal is rich ayont a treasure.
It's black wi' wark and red wi' blood,
Its richness noo in lives we measure.
Far better that we'd never wrought,
A thousand years o' wark and grievin'.
The coal is black like the mournin' shroud,
The women left behind their weavin'.
In Auchengeich there stands a pit,
The wheel above it isnae turnin',
For on a grey September morn,
The fires o' Hell below are burnin'
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