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Mining Law
Once upon a time,
in a valley deep and strange.
In a dim lit hovel,
in a far flung mountain range.
In this little boarding house,
a candle cut the night.
Sat three ragged digger hands,
who vowed to make things right.
They argued fussed and fought
until the morning sun they saw.
a never ending vision
called it Mining Law.
The first was a former barrister
born of a foreign shore
who spoke "we must make this law as precious
as the metal that we pour."
We must make this vison binding
to protect those who claim the land.
so a nation will grow stronger
with every ounce that's panned.
The second of that council
one of the eastern kind.
said, "this law must have health and welfare
this must be kept in mind.
Calls for special standards
labor wars end in cinder
no money made in the attitude
men are cheaper than timber".
The third attorney talked expansion
how law should grow from birth
He often used the word "pristine"
in phrases about the earth.
Somewhere in the smelter smoke
mill and tailing pond.
this one looked to the future
and the things that lay beyond.
All sat in that candle glow
their wisdom did abound
Brought forth was regulation
on how to mine the ground.
Well, they dumped through the grizzly
the ball mill did caress
over the flow of tables
concentrate formed the press.
Now while all this was going on
a fourth miner got off shift
He burst on the scene with a "Howdy boys,
this whole jackleg's got me stiff".
I almost cycled three rounds tonight
the air was just too low.
I put in about hundred bolts all by myself
I had lunch for an hour or so.
say have you boys been up all night?
why so long the run?
They told him of the MINING LAW
and what was now to come.
They spoke with pride and thrill
of it's benefit to man.
That tired hard rock aristocrat
and all he said was damn!
Mine camp priests and barmaids,
they all know the song and dance.
Be aware in conversation,
first liar don't stand a chance.
Copyright 1997 Joel Tankersley
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