TO GENUFLECT THIS
SAD OCCASION
Do I need to drop every time I see you?
To sense the spirit within the wind, well
that's but a miner's tale - like when the lamp
goes out, and you're 600 feet below the ground
just knowing it's all about to blow. Death and
doom afford you some little comfort at the end.
Then the mineshaft caves, and you become a
story about the guy or guys trapped below the
earth. It's always men too - never hear of any
equality idiots babbling about wanting women
in the mineshaft. Why is that?
-
I know why - because there are no bleeders in
the mines : no simple-hearted sycophants who cry
for every little thing, wearing their scarves and rings
and walking like Lance Loud. It's harsh and dreary
work, and there's no glamour in it. Those flamboyant
sorts who prattle on about their women in the military
and bend their wrists and ankles to be seen and heard,
they're only in it for the show. They want their attention
given. Down in the minehsaft, however, the darkness
and foul danger, always present, is a given.
-
No women need apply. Those equal rights for miners
end each instance when someone dies.
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