I’m in no way informed on the current state of child labor. Economy is out of my scope. It makes for a gripping topic, and I wrote a song as if from the perspective of a young miner trying to reach something further. Well, it got a bit out of hand when his own beliefs about himself are formed in part by his unfortunate state of hygiene. Very sad song. Prepare yourself.

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Strawberry Hill

I can’t remember a time
When my thoughts stayed still
But I hold in my mind
To the strawberry hill
Where I once met a lass
With her silver hair
She ran from me fast
When she caught me staring there
She ran from me fast
When she caught me staring there

To a to-and-fro
In the evening glow
Life be hard when your ugly
A-tavern we will go
So then never again
Shall I take my grin
To a fair finer countenance
I’m better in the bin

Nay, a miner by trade
and a scholar at night
I been learning for an earning
One to keep me right
But then sure in my body
Rickets rock my bones
Fore the morning bring me warning
Never minding me my groans

Slept hardly a wink
and I’m back to the grind
Gild and tassel at the brink
The foreman rob us all blind
He returns every day
To a wife and a home
So I work without play
And I never let alone

Can’t remember a time
When my thoughts stayed still
But I hold in my mind
To the strawberry hill
Where I once met a lass
With her silver hair
She ran from me fast
When she caught me staring there
She ran from me fast
When she caught me staring there

Just a boy in a hole
Every morning hides
Not alive, just survive
‘Til the next daylight
I’m familiar with Freedom
Or so I’ll say
When in name, she’s the same
While the sun shines gray