A temper you could see from space
Jean was his miner's bride
Different as day from night
Poised with a humble air of grace
He was a wide -mouthed shovel
Rough as a pile of rubble
She wore her dressing gown
Like a royal robe of gold
He was a black coal miner,
with coal dust on his hands
They lived across the road,
Sometimes the sun dropped by,
she'd wait for the sparks to fly
He was a wide -mouthed shuttle,
rough as a pile of rubble
She was a gently floating,
And he was a black coal miner,
with coal dust on his hands
Somehow they made it to the end.
Forever and ever and ever,
He was a wide -mouthed shovel,
rough as a pile of rubble,
running through her veins
He was a black coal miner,
with coal dust on his hands
she called all my kids by name
