Coal Dust on the Fiddle

Coal dust on the fiddle,
Coal dust on the bow,
Daughters of the mountain,
Working down below.
Coal dust on my body,
Coal dust in my soul,
Sisters in the coal mine,
Women digging coal.

Some people say that it’s unlucky
To have women down a mine,
So they worked them on the surface,
Picking stones from off the line.
But they fought the superstitious
For rights of work and pay,
And managed tghe harrassments
They met along the way.

When Nancy started working there
The men all laid a trap,
But when she couldn’t find her dinner-pail
She stole the bosses snap.
Digging coal to feed your family
And to keep them from the cold.
No support from state or husband,
Put those monthly pains on hold.

Libby Lindsay fought some battles
To make mining safe for all.
Fought for training, fought for bathrooms,
Closed the peepholes in the wall.
And they fought to join the union,
Went on strike and went to jail.
Some moved on and some got married,
Some were killed but no-one failed.

Some people say that it’s unlucky
To have women down a mine,
But they’re working at the coal-face,
And they’re doing it just fine.

Coal Dust on the Fiddle © Bill Adair/Sad Jeb Music 2019






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