| Pulling on my wellington boots
|
| Overalls, boiler suit
|
| Ready to face another day
|
| Down the black hole to earn my pay
|
| Illusions of granddads, they fill my head
|
| To keep me from thinking of the day I dread
|
| Can you get me out of this dirty black hole
|
| Or I have to face, old King Coal
|
| King Coal, down the hole
|
| King Coal, black gold
|
| King Coal, the lives he stole
|
| King Coal, he takes all
|
| Now I’ve done it, dust fills my chest
|
| I heave like a horse that gave his all
|
| There must be a way to get out of this mess
|
| Leave it all with a little regret
|
| No question of the comradeship
|
| No doubting our good fellowship
|
| Just a doubt to why we gave our all
|
| To that old man, old King Coal
|
| King Coal, moulds the soul
|
| King Coal, black mans hole
|
| King Coal, the men of steal
|
| King Coal, the rough deal
|
| Illusions of grandkids, they fill my head
|
| To keep me from thinking of the day I dread
|
| Can you get me out of this dirty black hole
|
| Or have I to face, old King Coal
|
| King Coal, down the hole
|
| King Coal, black gold
|
| King Coal, the lives he stole
|
| King Coal, he takes all
|
| King Coal, moulds the soul
|
| King Coal, black mans hole
|
| King Coal, the men of steal
|
| King Coal, the rough deal |