Way down here in the Pit
Light don't shine no more
It all goes away when the dust flies
And only comes back when we stop working
But we're workin' for more than just money
More than to get gifts for our honeys
We work so that America works,
So that they have light
And really, that thought is brighter than any light
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem