[Em]Come Irishmen both [G]young and [D]stern
With ad[Em]venture in your [D]soul
There are[Em] better ways to [G]spend
your [D]days
Than in [Em]working [D]down a [Em]hole
I was tall and true, all of six foot two
But they broke me across the back
By a name I'm known and it's not my
own
They call me Crooked Jack
The ganger's blue-eyed boy was I
Big Jack could do no wrong
And the reason simply was because
I could work
hard hours and long
I've seen men old before their time
Their faces drawn and gray
I never thought so soon would mine
Be lined
the self same way
I've cursed the day that I went away
To work on the hydro dams
For sweat and tears or hopes and fears
Bound
up in shuttering jams
They say that honest toil is good
For the spirit and the soul
But believe me boys it's for sweat and blood
That
they want you down a hole