Miles Beneath

Down in caverns dark and deep, miles beneath the throne,
Where magic runs wild and free and wind will never moan,
And two steps to the left, you could say that we were home -
But miles beneath our families, we take our axe to stone.


The days, they pass so slowly and the nights, they are so cold.
And to hear the way our bones creak, you'd think that we'd grown old.
What do we break our backs for? It's not silver, it's not gold.
Miles beneath the mountain peaks, we work to meet our goal.


The pale blue light, it glows so bright; it keeps the dark at bay.
And when we sing, our voices ring; the monsters keep away.
So swing your axe 'til crystal cracks, and think not of warm days.
Miles beneath the grass and trees, we toil for our pay.