Come and listen you fellows, so young and so fine,
And seek not your fortune in the dark, dreary mines.
It will form as a habit and seep in your soul,
'Till the stream of your blood is as black as the coal.
It's dark as a dungeon and damp as the dew,
Where danger is double and pleasures are few,
Where the rain never falls and the sun never shines
It's dark as a dungeon way down in the mines.
It's a-many a man I have seen in my day,
Who lived just to labor his whole life away.
Like a fiend with his dope and a drunkard his wine,
A man will have lust for the lure of the mines.
I hope when I'm gone and the ages shall roll,
My body will blacken and turn into coal.
Then I'll look from the door of my heavenly home,
And pity the miner a-diggin' my bones.
Each strike was accompanied by the beat of the drum making its way down the long, long length of the mine. Each miner striking in tandem- the sweat dripped heavily from each mans forehead, the stone was unforgiving this day.
Or so it seemed- until you and three others near you suddenly felt your pick axes slip through the stone and into something soft. Immediately the action was accompanied by a deep rumbling, as if the very earth disagreed with the tresspass. You four were thrown back heavily into the wall, smashing your head against the bare rock. The dagger accompanying every miner fell to the ground with a rough clash- the world went black.
Ninety six of a hundred miners made it out before the mine collapsed.
Three sword armed guards rushed forwards in a brave but futile attempt to start removing stone.
The world remained black.