“The miners’ festival” a song by Réal V. Benoit

We’re two, we’re four, we’re six, we’re eight, we talk about it, we get on board and here we go!

We are two, we are ten, we are one hundred, singing, dancing, jumping or laughing.

We are handsome, we are ugly, we are fat, we are gruff, we are crazy, we are nice, as long as we mine.

We get on it, we get there, these friends, this family, these contests, we have fun and we never forget.

The miners’ festival in our area. The miners’ festival from afar. The festival of those breaking their backs, of those getting their hands dirty while earning their bread.

We make eight, we make ten, we make twelve, we make sixteen, sometimes twenty hours a day without saying a thing.

We earn a living, we die, we laugh, we cry, we don’t care once in a while.

Whether we are strong or weak, better or worse, young or old, boss or not.

We get on it, we get there, these friends, this family, these contests, we have fun and we never forget.

The miners’ festival in our area. The miners’ festival from afar. The festival of those breaking their backs, of those getting their hands dirty while earning their bread.

We’re two, we’re four, we’re six, we’re eight, we talk about it, we get on board and here we go!

We are two, we are ten, we are one hundred, singing, dancing, jumping or laughing.

We are handsome, we are ugly, we are fat, we are cold, we are crazy, we are nice, as long as we mine.

We get on it, we get there, these friends, this family, these contests, we have fun and we never forget.

The miners’ festival in our area. The miners’ festival from afar. The festival of those breaking their backs, of those getting their hands dirty while earning their bread.

The miners’ festival in our area. The miners’ festival from afar. The festival of those breaking their backs, of those getting their hands dirty while earning their bread.