Belfryites dig in de Bowery Corner.  Belfryites dig while de Wexxes play;
Pulling dese sledges from de dawn to sunset, gittin no beer and gittin no pay:
Don't get squashed and don't dare drown 'cos that'll make de Diggin' Boss frown:
Shovel out all dat gravel and glass an pull dat rope or he'll kick your arse.

Let me go way from de Bowery Corner, let me go 'way from dat poxy sink.
Show me dat pub called de Hunter's Lodge dat's where I'll drown myself - in drink!

Bowery Corner, dat Bowery Corner, it must go somewhere. but ain't gone nowhere.
It just keeps going, it keeps on going a-long ---It ain't got chambers, it ain't got pitches.
It ain't got limestone, it ain't got pretties;
That Bowery Corner, it jes keeps going a-long ----
 
You an' me, we sweat an' strain.  Body all achin' an' racked wid pain.
"Carry det det!  Shift dat tamp", lie down in de streamway 'til you die of cramp.
Ah gits weary an' sick of shale.  Ahm tired of diggin' an' want my ALE.
But Bowery Corner, it just keeps goin' a-long!

words by Uncle Tom J'Rat. With apologies to Oscar Hammerstein II, Jerome Kern, Paul Robeson and the BEC.

(printed music and cassette of Paul Robeson's version available for anyone desperate enough to want to sing it!)