digging out of our range my sympathy runs with time spent in the grave keeping some of this gold greed is the sound the mine carries the most when nothing you see is clear darkness doesn t seem so bad there s breath if you hold it begging for no new mining minutes counting for days both of your lungs are grey needing a break fitting into a hole not mean for a man there s barely room for the ghosts when nothing you see is clear darkness doesn t seem so bad there s breath if you hold it begging for no new mining begging for no new mining begging for no new mining keeping some of this gold making room for the ghosts keeping some of this gold making room for the ghosts begging for no no new mining