The Belly of the Mine (The Bucket)
Left my home on the plain, friend
Eighteen ninety and three
I swore the dust in Oklahoma
Would choke the life right out of me
Had a hunger for the rock, son
had a troubled mind
Twenty years of turning stock, son
Into the belly of the mine
Ride the Bucket down
To the belly of the mine
Turn steady up above now
And keep a watch upon the line
Big man on the handle
He got a hold of your soul
When he rings that bell now
You know there's trouble in the hole
Here's your hammer and a sack, son
For that long dark ride
Now when they drop you in the Bucket
You keep your hammer at your side
And don't forget an extra candle
For where the sun don't shine
Ten hundred feet or more, son
Into the belly of the mine
Ride the Bucket down
To the belly of the mine
Turn steady up above now
And keep a watch upon the line
Big man on the handle
He got a hold of your soul
When he rings that bell now
You know there's trouble in the hole
Don't it cause you to wonder
Don't it cause you to fear
When the stopes are give to thunder
And Lord that mighty cloud rolls in
You heed the ringin' in your ears, son
Hear the widows scream
For the man who seeks a fortune
And leaves his life beneath the seam
Ride the Bucket down
To the belly of the mine
Turn steady up above now
And keep a watch upon the line
Big man on the handle
He got a hold of your soul
When he rings that bell now
You know there's trouble in the hole
Seven rings on the bell now
You know there's trouble in the hole
Words and music copyright ©1990 Betty Elders/ Whistling Pig Music (ASCAP) administered by BUG Music