It's coal I seek; a miner, that's me;
Wife's thirteen, a minor, that's she.
Some view such knot's tied abhorrently,
But it's West Virginia, so fine with me.

I spend my whole week in the underworld,
Location under bogs.
Air is thin in this dank zone;
We face a dust cloud.
This job will make you old.
Without a doubt,
I'd get out,
But this is all I know.

It's coal I seek; a miner, that's me;
I can't breathe with authority.
It's oxygen that's restorin' me
After each day of a mine-borin' spree.

Shlepped out of the mine
Shiny heap o' blackest dirt.
Marching all in line,
We're feelin' beat now. . .
Sing "Hi, ho, off we go."
No light in mine,
Gas-suffused and dark.
We're findin' pre-diamonds,
Might get blown up from a spark.
The mine-owner crowd don't care about me.
If walls should fall. . .
"Tough luck, y'all,
You're on your own--right."

It's coal I seek; a miner, that's me;
I gotta view things relatively.
Worse if in Chinese mine I should be:
Sino mines show signs quite malign to me.