The clock goes off in the morning at a half past five
The screaming bells and living hell but happy he’s alive
He kisses wife and child goodbye and hums a lullaby
The same old tune he’s sang for years to help the days go by
On the night of June the 8th nineteen hundred seventeen
Tis off to work the miners go for now there all so clean
With hearts so proud they sing out loud their songs from far away
Their suffering and their pain we’ll remember to this day
Tonight the granite mountain took his life and many more
Now standing with the miners as they knock on Heavens door
Peter calls the boys from Butte to sit down by his side
He knows they’ve been to hell and back to them he will confide
He opens up the pearly gates and looks them in the eye
The copper ore with blood and grime the angels start to cry
One hundred sixty eight their names are carved upon the walls
These souls of Butte Montana we’ll remember one and all
