Ghost of the Coal Mine (music and words: R. Hanna)

Father worked the coal mines into an early grave
Sixty hour weeks and not a hope for a raise
McCallahan, the bossman, had an iron fist up his [bad word] But now he’s haunted by the demons of his despicable past
Father lead five men into an unexplored cave
And in a flash the ceiling crashed, no one could be saved
Well, that’s the way things go,” McCallahan said to my ma
And he left us standing on his porch, our mouths dropped in awe
The next day he forgot that we were even there at all
 [bad word] 
Now all of the day, the screams of dying men in pain
Clouds [bad word] [bad word] s mind who [bad word] them to the side
And in some feeble way, my father’s death was not in vain
As no one dares to work inside a haunted coal mine

Now every time McCallahan takes a puff from a cigar
His mouth fills up with coal dust and he spits it to the floor
And every time he sees his reflection in the mirror
My father’s blackened corpse stands directly to his rear
The workers couldn’t stand the evil howling in the caves
Or the visions of canaries disembowled by pick-axe blades
And when he goes to sleep McCallahan opens one eye
Forever haunted by the ghosts of those six brave men that died
Forever at the mercy of his evil, foolish pride