Some people say a man is made out of mud.
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood.
Muscle and blood and skin and bone,
a mind that's weak and a back that's strong.
I was born one morning, the sun didn't shine,
I picked up shovel and walked down to the mine.
' Lifted sixteen tons of number nine coal,
the straw boss said "Well bless my soul".
You lift sixteen tons and what do get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
Saint Peter don't call me 'cause I can't go,
I owe my soul to the company store.