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Men at Work |
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i This is the story of a coal miner's child, A little girl only nine years old, She was found dead in a rich man's home. She died from hunger and cold, She died from hunger and cold, She was found dead in a rich man's home, Yes, she died of hunger and cold.
2 "I have no home," said the coal miner's child At the door of a rich man's hall,
As she trembling stood on the marble steps And leaned against a polished wall.
3 "My father was killed in the coal mines," she said— Tears dimmed her eyes so bright,
"And, last of all, my mother is dead,
I'm a orphan alone tonight,
I'm a orphan alone tonight $
And, last of all, my mother is dead,
I'm a orphan alone tonight."
4 The night was cold and the snow fell fast, But the rich man closed his door,
And his proud lips spurned with scorn when he said,
"I've no room, no bread for the poor,
No room, no bread for the poor";
His proud lips spurned with scorn when he said,
"I've no room, no bread for the poor."
5 "I must freeze," she said, as she sank on the steps And tried to cover her feet.
Her ragged dress was covered with snow, Yes, covered with snow and sleet. |
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