My first encounter with the mudcat was trying to find these lyrics. Got 'em!

BALLAD OF THE FRANK SLIDE
(Robert Gard)

On a grim and tragic morning
In nineteen hundred three
A little babe lay weeping
A pitiful sight to see.
A pitiful sight was she, was she
There in the shiv'ring morning.

Around the babe was a sea of stones,
A million ton or more,
That slid right off the mountain top
With a horrifying roar.
With a horrifying roar they tore,
There in the shiv'ring morning.

The night-shift was coming out of the mine,
They found their exit fouled.
Should have known that something was very wrong
For a dog that was with them howled,
Sat right up and howled and howled,
There in the shiv'ring morning.

The boys went down with many a tear
For their wives and children are mourned,
And not a one who came out of the mine
Had a bite of breakfast to eat,
Had a bite of breakfast to eat, to eat,
There in the shiv'ring morning.

The baby girl that lay on the rock,
'Twas a wonder she never dies,
There was only one thing the folks could do,
They named her "Frankie Slide"
They named her "Frankie Slide" they did,
There in the shiv'ring morning.

And when she grew to a maiden fair,
She knew that she'd someday abide
Along somewhere in the Crow's Nest Pass
Where they tell of the great Frank Slide.
They tell of the great Frank Slide, they do,
There in the shiv'ring morning.

Robert Gard 1959