Some people say a man is made out of mud. A poor man's made out of muscle and blood. Muscle and blood and skin and bones. A mind that's weak and a back that's strong. You load sixteen tons, what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt. Saint Peter, don't you call me cause I can't go. I owe my soul to the company store. I was born one morning when the sun didn't shine. I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine. I loaded sixteen tons, a number nine coal and a straw ball. Said, well, bless my soul, you load sixteen tons, what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt. Saint Peter, don't you call me cause I can't go. I owe my soul to the company store. I was born one morning, it was drizzling rain. Fighting and trouble are my middle name. I was raised in the cane break by an old mama lying. Can't no high-toned woman make me walk the line. You load sixteen tons, what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt. Saint Peter, don't you call me cause I can't go. I owe my soul to the company store. If you see me coming, better step aside. A lot of men didn't, a lot of men died. One fist of iron, the other of steel. If the right one don't get you, then the left one will. You load sixteen tons, what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt. Saint Peter, don't you call me cause I can't go. I owe my soul to the company store. I owe my soul to the company store.