We are miners, hard rock miners

To the shaft house we must go

Pour your bottles on our shoulders

We are marching to the slow



On the line boys, on the line boys

Drill your holes and stand in line

Till the shift boss comes to tell you

You must 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

And I feel like I'm dying from mining for gold



Yes I feel like I'm dying from mining for gold