Work Text:
It's "Go, gems, go".
They'll time your every breath.
And every day you're in this place
You're two days nearer death
But you go...
A chipper-gem am I
And I'm telling you no lie
I work and breathe among the fumes
That tread across the sky
There's thunder all around me
And there's poison in the air
There's a lousy smell
That smacks of Hell
And dust all in my hair
I've worked among the spitters
And I breathe the oily smoke
I've shovelled up the Gypsum
And it nigh on makes you choke
I've stood knee-deep in cyanide
Got sick with a caustic burn
Been workin' rough, I've seen enough
To make your stomach turn
There's overtime and
bonus opportunities galore
The young gems like their money
And they all come back for more
But soon they're knockin' on
And they fall deeper in the hole
For every bob made on the job
You pay with bits of soul
And it's go, gems, go
They'll time your every breath.
And every day you're in this place
You're two days nearer death
But you go...