Today folk amble along mine tracks br Where once tin was hard hauled. br Inclines were handled by boys, blackened br With pit dust, bare armed, mauled br By overfilled trucks. Bal-maidens worked br Here too, loading ore. Fine young br Females, hair capped, their laughter shirking br The rules. Slack was, among br Such tender crews not allowed, they sang br Though, mining ballards, loudly. br As shovel struck ore, these tracks just rang br With young voices, as, proud br Of their Cornishness, they kept in line. br Silent now, old mine tracks br Still ring with lost childhood, and some nights br We hear singing come back.