Get the rocks in the box,
Get the water right down to your socks,
This bullpen's built to fallen brother and bone.

We all do what we can,
We endure our fellow man,
And we sing our song to the head frame's vixen moan.

Chorus:
And it's one, two, three
On the wrong side of the lee
What were you meant for?
What were you meant for?
And it's seven, eight, nine
You get your shuffle back in line
And if you ever make it to ten you won't make it again,
And if you ever make it to ten you won't make it again.

And you won't make a dime,
On this gray-grounded mountain mine,
Of dirt you're made and to dirt you will return.

So while we're living here,
Let's get this little one thing clear,
There's plenty of men that die, you don't drop your toe.

2 x Chorus:
And it's one, two, three
On the wrong side of the lee
What were you meant for?
What were you meant for?
And it's seven, eight, nine
You get your shuffle back in line
And if you ever make it to ten you won't make it again,
And if you ever make it to ten you won't make it again.
<br />
			     <br />
			     Thanks to greta