We are miners,
hard rock miners
To the shaft house we must go
Oil bottles
on our shoulders
We are marching to the slope
On the line,
boys,
on the line,
boys
Drill your holes and stand in line
Till the shift boss
comes to tell you
Just drill her out on top
Can't you feel the rock dust in your lungs?
It'll cut down a miner when he is still
young Two years and the silicosis takes hold
I feel like I'm dying from mining for gold
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