Get the rocks in the box
Get the water right down to your socks
This bulkhead's built of fallen brethren's bones
We all do what we can
We endure our fellow man
And we sing our songs to the headframe's creaks and moans

And it's one, two, three
On the wrong side of the lea
What were you meant for? 
What were you meant for?
And it's seven, eight, nine
You get your shovel back in line
And if you ever make it to ten
You won't make it again
And if you ever make it to ten
You won't make it again

And you won't make a dime
On this gray granite mountain mine
Of dirt you're made, of dirt you will return
So while we're living here 
Let's get this little one thing clear
There's plenty of men to die, don't jump your turn

And it's one, two, three
On the wrong side of the lea
What were you meant for? 
What were you meant for?
And it's seven, eight, nine
You get your shovel back in line
And if you ever make it to ten
You won't make it again
And if you ever make it to ten
You won't make it again

And it's one, two, three
On the wrong side of the lea
What were you meant for? 
What were you meant for?
And it's seven, eight, nine
You get your shovel back in line
And if you ever make it to ten
You won't make it again
And if you ever make it to ten
You won't make it again