THE MINER
(Anon)

The miner he goes and changes his clothes
And then makes his way to the shaft
For each man well knows he's going below
To put in his eight hours of graft

Chorus
With his calico cap and his old flannel shirt
His pants with the strap 'round the knee
His boots watertight and his candle alight
His crib and his billy of tea

The platman to the driver will knock four and one
The ropes to the windlass will strain
As one shift comes up, another goes down
And mining commences again

He works hard for his pay at six bob a day
He toils for his missus and kids
He gets what's left over and thinks he's in clover
To cut off his 'baccy from quids

And thus he goes on, week in and week out
To toil for his life's daily bread
He's off to the mine, hail, rain or shine
That his dear ones at home may be fed

Digging holes in the ground where there's gold to be found
But most times where gold it is not
A man's like a rabbit with this digging habit
And, like one, he ought to be shot

Youtube clip

--Stewie.