The clock goes off in the morning at a half past five The screaming bells and living hell but happy he’s alive He kisses wife and child goodbye and hums a lullaby The same old tune he’s sang for years to help the days go by
On the night of June the 8th nineteen hundred seventeen Tis off to work the miners go for now there all so clean With hearts so proud they sing out loud their songs from far away Their suffering and their pain we’ll remember to this day
Tonight the granite mountain took his life and many more Now standing with the miners as they knock on Heavens door Peter calls the boys from Butte to sit down by his side He knows they’ve been to hell and back to them he will confide
He opens up the pearly gates and looks them in the eye The copper ore with blood and grime the angels start to cry One hundred sixty eight their names are carved upon the walls These souls of Butte Montana we’ll remember one and all