Sky was black, Lord, rain came pouring down

Number 12 bus shuffling down Shaw Road way

Mules keep spinning, black-faced lifers peck the ground

Sun comes up like lightning over Tango Hill grey

We are mill boys, stuck on the hill boys

Stuck in the mill boys, 'till our dying day

We are mill boys, stuck on the hill boys

Stuck in the mill boys, 'till our dying day Cotton mill will get you, boy, she'll take you to your grave

Tell you boy to use your head, apprentice out your days

You'll end up a nothing, boy, with cotton as your trade

Sun comes up like lightning over Tango Hill grey We are mill boys, stuck on the hill boys

Stuck in the mill boys, 'till our dying day

We are mill boys, stuck on the hill boys

Stuck in the mill boys, 'till our dying day It's easy to see a poor boy's blues

When he's working every day

It's harder to be there in his shoes

He was born to be that way