The Platters Roses Of Picardy

Популярная песня, повествующая о тяжёлом труде и бедности шахтёров-угольщиков, созданная в первой половине XX века.

Взято с

Some people say a man is made outta mud.
A poor man's made outta muscle and blood.
Muscle and blood, skin and bones;
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong.

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
St Peter don't you call me cause I can't go:
I owe my soul to the company store.

I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine.
I picked up a shovel, an' I walked out to the mine.
I loaded sixteen tons of Number nine coal,
An' the store boss said: "Well, bless my soul."

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
St Peter don't you call me cause I can't go:
I owe my soul to the company store.

If you see me comin', better step aside.
A lotta men didn't, an' a lotta men died.
One fist of iron, the other of steel.
If the right one don't get you, then the left one will.

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
St Peter don't you call me cause I can't go:
I owe my soul to the company store.

I was born one mornin', it was drizzlin' rain.
Fightin' an' trouble was my middle name.
I was raised in the canebreak by an old mama lion,
Can't no high-toned woman makes me walk the line.

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
St Peter don't you call me cause I can't go:
I owe my soul to the company store.

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Перевод:

Шестнадцать тонн, умри, но дай,
Всю жизнь работай — весь век страдай.
Но помни, дружище, что в день похорон
Тебе мы сыграем 16 тонн
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Говорят, из глины всех создал бог,
Шахтер - забойщик есть плоть и кровь.
Плоть и кровь, под кожей кость,
Слаб мозгами, зато крепок торс.

Ты шестнадцать тонн дал на гора!
В поту день прожил, но глубже в долгах.
Святой Петр в небо не зовёт меня,
Ведь душу в лавке я заложил навсегда.

Мне известно с детства, кем родился я,
Кайло в руки дали, шахта ждёт меня.
В день шестнадцать тонн срубил угля,
А десятник крикнул мне: