| His dad was a miner and his granddad was too
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| There was never much question about what he might do
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| By the age of thirteen he had laid down his pen
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| And become a coal-miner and a prince among men
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| My goal as a young lad from a bright early age
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| Was to follow my hero down in that cage
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| Fairy lights and Pit Ponies were the stuff of my dreams
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| Never thinking how hard my dad worked at the seam
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| Only a miner killed under the ground
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| Only a miner and one more is found
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| Killed by accident no one can tell
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| Your mining’s all over, poor minr, farewell
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| Dad worked lik a Trojan his money to save
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| I’m afraid that he worked himself into his grave
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| And my schooling was paid at the cost of his lungs
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| Dad was an old man at the age of forty-one
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| I never will forget how his face lit with pride
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| When I got my diploma, he was there by my side
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| And I try to remember him as he was then
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| A rare moment of joy for a prince among men
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| A gold watch and chain inscribed James Doyle
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| Never seemed much reward for a life of such toil
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| But I keep his lamp burning and his old union card
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| And his bones rest here in this sunlit graveyard
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| My dad was a miner and a prince among men
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| Well loved by his wife and his family and friends
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| And his hardship and toil gave me the one chance I had
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| And generations of slavery died with my dad |