When I was just a lad

Of 16 years old

I’d leave for work at six

And cycle off to bold.

 

With six rounds of bread and butter

And tomato cut quite thin

Wrapped up in grease proof paper

And placed within a tin.

 

Bold was a thriving colliery

In the fifties way back then

Producing lots of coal

With fifteen hundred men.

 

I would don my belt and helmet

Tie my safety boots to fit

Get my lamp and tally

And head off to the pit.

 

Going half a mile straight down

In the cage, that was not all

A mile and half to ride

Another mile to walk and crawl.

 

No time to get my breath back

No time to sit and shirk

We ha got our orders

And so straight down to work.

 

Another two hour travel

At the end of the shift

We then had to wait our turn

For the ride up in the lift.

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A rapid shower, a change of clothes

Then the part that I dislike

Push my weary body

To pedal home by bike.