Decemberists Rox In The Box
Get the rocks in the box
Get the water right down to your socks
This bulkhead's built of fallen brethren bones
We all do what we can
We endure our fellow man
And we sing our songs to the headframes' creaks and moans
And it's one two three
On the wrong side of the lee
What were you meant for?
What were you meant for?
And it's seven eight nine
You get your shuffle back in line
And if you ever make it to ten you won't make it again
And you won't make a dime
On this gray Granite Mountain Mine
Of dirt you're made and to dirt you will return
So while we're living here
Let's get this little one thing clear
There's plenty of men to die; you don't jump your turn
Chorus
