Listen

To the slap of the coalers bow wave against the bank
Winding gear groans, creaks and clanks
Ponies whinny in made- made night.
Laden tubs rattle,
Sweat drip dropping to tolling blows.
To the next shift’s hobnail marching beat, it’s
There, as surely as the coal beneath your feet

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The coaler's bow wave slaps the bank,
Winding gear groans and clanks,
Ponies whinny in man-made night.
Sweat drip-dropping to rasping blows,
A laden dram rattles.
The next shifts hobnail marching beat
Is there, as surely as
The coal beneath your feet.