Mining for Gold

We are miners, hard rock miners To the shaft house we must go Oil bottles on our shoulders We are marching to the sloe On the line boys, on the line boys Drill your holes and stand in line 'Til the shift boss comes to tell you: you must drill her out on time 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 And I feel like I'm dying from mining for gold Yes, I feel like I'm dying from mining for gold