Explore the well-worn tracks leading to the mines
The stone-arched gateways to the shafts
The ruined smelt mills and the tips,
Remnants from a bygone time

Say a little thank you to the men who built and trod these paths
For their lives were often short and their work was hard
Imagine you can hear them sing as they wind on through the hills
And hear their clogs against the stones echo down the gylls

Look down, now the only sound the water as it rushes
Look up to the heather moor and the hillside hushes

Mini squadrons of cackling grouse fly off everywhere
Where once the lead was teased from underground
Now it's fired into the air