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Lyrics

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 bones
A mind that’s weak and a back that’s strong

You load sixteen tons, whattaya get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
St. Peter don’cha call me, 'cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store

I was born one morning when the sun didn’t shine
I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine
I loaded sixteen tons of number-nine coal
And the straw boss said, “Well bless my soul!”

You load sixteen tons, whattaya get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
St. Peter don’cha call me, 'cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store

I was born one morning, it was drizzlin’ rain
Fightin’ and trouble are my middle name
I was raised in the canebreak by an old mama lion
Can’t no high-toned woman make me walk the line

You load sixteen tons, whattaya get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
St. Peter don’cha call me, 'cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store

If you see me comin’ better step aside
A lotta men didn’t, a lotta men died
One fist of iron, the other of steel
If the right one don’t getcha then the left one will

You load sixteen tons, whattaya get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
St. Peter don’cha call me, 'cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store

  • cabbage@piefed.social
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    5 days ago

    You load sixteen tons, whattaya get?
    Another day older and deeper in debt
    St. Peter don’cha call me, 'cause I can’t go
    I owe my soul to the company store

    Lyrics don’t get much more iconic than this.

    Another mining song I love is “The L&N Don’t Stop Here Any More” by Jean Richie, about the experience of growing up in a coal town after the mine has shut down (and the Louisiana-Nashville train - the L&N - no longer bothers to stop there).

    Ritchie, who grew up in Viper Kentucky, initially didn’t dear to release it under her own name as the subject of empoverished coal miners was too controversial.

    I used to think my daddy was a black man With script enough to buy the company store
    Now he goes to town with empty pockets
    And his face as white as February snow

    Here it is by Billy Bragg and Joe Henry.