Lyrics:

Some people say a man is made out of mud A poor man's made out of muscle and blood Muscle and blood and skin and bones A mind that's weak and a back that's strong Chorus: You load sixteen tons, and whattaya get? Another day older and deeper in debt St. Peter don'cha call me, cause I can't go I owe my soul to the company store I was born one morning when the sun didn't shine I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine I loaded sixteen tons of number-nine coal And the store boss said,