Gil scott-heron

Three miles down

Gil scott-heron
Here come the mine cars it'sdamn near dawn.
Another shift of men, some of my friends, comin' on.
Hard to imagine workin' in the mines
Coal dust in your lungs, on your skin and on your mind.
I've listened to the speeches,
but it occours to me politicians just don't understand
the thoughts of isolation, ain't no sunshine underground.
It's like workin' in a graveyard three miles down.

Damn near a legend as old as the mines:
things that happen in the pits just don't change with the times.
Work 'till you're exhausted in too little spacwe.
a history of desastrous fears etched on your face.
Somebody signs a paper, ev'ry body thinks it's fine,
but Taft and Hartley ain't done one day in the mines.
You start to stiffen! You heard a crackin' sound!
It's like workin' in a graveyard three miles down.

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