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I went digging for gold
I went down to the valley
Over by the mountain
Where the Prospektor had been told
I’m marching through the cold
We’re marching through the cold

I went digging for gold
I went down with my brother
A bucket and a shovel
And a book about the colour of coal
I’m marching through the cold
We’re marching through the cold


There’s a tiny little crackle on the telephone line
Saying what use is the metal if the metal don’t shine?
She said bring me back a ring ’cause I really want one
Now I been digging so long that I never see the sun

I went digging for gold
I went down to the valley
Over by the mountain
Where the Prospektor had been told
I’m marching through the cold
We’re marching through the cold

There’s a tiny little crackle on the telephone line
Saying what use is the metal if the metal don’t shine?
She said bring me back a ring ’cause I really want one
Now I been digging so long that I never see the sun
Now I been digging so long that I never see the sun
Now I been digging so long that I never see the sun

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