Chorus.—We've got no work, &c.
We know these are very hard ti-i-imes,
To scrape up the dollars and di-i-imes;
But when we, dear Miners, are robbed of the shiners,
We're punished for other folks' crimes.
Chorus.—We've got no work, &c.
Of course if you give us the sa-a-ack,
Our Gladstone bags we must pa-a-ack,
But perhaps for this hurry some day you'll be sorry,
And wish Burt and Fenwick both back.