Who dragged himself to work
And worked himself to deathworking for someone else
We follow each other around on shaky ground
His life had become to him
Worthless in many ways
An expired product off the shelf
Working for someone else
We follow each other around on shaky ground
The nature of his work
Gave him a minstrel color
Twenty hours a day
Little time he had for others
We follow each other around on shaky ground
Never got to see the world
He got a funeral and this miner's song
There is no right or wrong
Now it's down to the wire
Facing six feet under
Can only wonder and stare
His name was a number
In memory of a miner Who dragged himself to work And worked himself to deathworking for someone else We follow each other around on shaky ground His life had become to him Worthless in many ways An expired product off the shelf Working for someone else We follow each other around on shaky ground The nature of his work Gave him a minstrel color Twenty hours a day Little time he had for others We follow each other around on shaky ground Never got to see the world He got a funeral and this miner's song There is no right or wrong Now it's down to the wire Facing six feet under Can only wonder and stare His name was a number Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/u/uncle_tupelo/slate.html