© jiva 2003
All day, every day, the same all the year round
You scrape and you dig with your bare hands and pick
Working deep underground
Working deep underground
I can still hear the sound of their boots on the ground
Like soldiers march on parade
He'd walk to the mine where he'd wait there in line
To go down the shaft in the cage
To the all day, every day, the same all the year round
You scrape and you dig with your bare hands and pick
Working deep underground
Working deep underground
Then came the shout, they had to get out
The timbers were twisted and cracked
Though many came through he remembers the few
Who he knew would never come back
To the all day, every day, the same all the year round
You scrape and you dig with your bare hands and pick
Working deep underground
Working deep underground
The mine ran deep and the old pit heap
Used to tower up to the sky
Now there's nothing left but the dust on his chest
At times he'll just sit there and cry
All day, every day, the same all the year round
You scrape and you dig with your bare hands and pick
Working deep underground
Working deep underground
Working deep underground
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