It was dark as night in that old mine.
It was abandoned,
abandoned back in sixty nine.
They had taken what they needed.
Those hard working men.
Working from sunrise to sunset.
What was the difference?
After all, they were in a mine.

That mine heard the signing of miners.
Not the singing that thy ear is used to.
Shouts of, "Get the hell out! The ceiling is collapsing!"

The men were scared, though.
Scared of the death threatening mine.
It was a blood thirsty lion.
Men died.
But still, they worked.

They sweat ed blood.
There summers tan was of coal dust.
There best friends were there shovels, picks, and the elevator leading out.
There guide was God.

They worked for power.
Hell, they worked for money.
They got little, worked hard.
They knew the mine could kill them.
But, they still worked.

The faded giant hauled the coal out.
The elevator hauled the men out.
And, the ambulance hauled the man away.

Then, all went silent.
The coal cars left.
The elevator stopped running.
The lion had gone to bed.
It was still, dark as night.