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Robert W Service - The Tunnel
Work rating: Medium

Toil`s a tunnel, there`s no way out
For fellows, the like o` me;
A beggar wi` only a crust an` a clout
At the worst o` the worst is free;
but I work to eat, an` I eat to work;
It`s always the same old round,
And I dassent fail for the day I shirk
They`ll shovel me underground.

I guess God meant it to be that way,
For a man must make his bread;
I was born to bondage, to earn my pay,
To slave to the day I`m dead;
To live in a tunnel, to die in a ditch -
That`s just what us fellows do;
For the poor must be makin` the rich more rich,
An` the many must serve the few.

Aye, we live in a tunnel, most o` us,
A-fearin` to lose our job;
But who has the right to gripe an` cuss
So the goblet`s hot on the hob.
An` I mustn`t be havin` the wife complain,
An` I can`t let the childer fast:
So I`ll toil in my tunnel an` drag my chain,
Clank! Clank! Clank! to the last.
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