With my hand on the handle and the blade on the yard,
I'm stepping on the blade and I'm pushing down hard.
Through the grass and the weeds and the rubble and the roots
I'm working in the mud so I’m wearing rubber boots.
Digging a hole in the ground. HE’S DIGGING A HOLE IN THE GROUND.
Past the stones and the roots and the pebbles and gravel
I’m going on a journey and it’s down I travel.
I scoop out all the dirt then I put it in a pile.
I’ll probably be working here for a little while.
Digging a hole in the ground. HE’S DIGGING A HOLE IN THE GROUND.
Through the sand and the stones and the clay and the dirt
There's sweat on my forehead; perspiration my shirt.
As the shadows get longer and the daylight fades
I got no trouble with a shovel and I'm king of spades.
Digging a hole in the ground. HE’S DIGGING A HOLE IN THE GROUND.
As the hole gets longer and my muscles get stronger
I'm in the deep end look at me descend.
I’m not digging for treasure, I’m digging for pleasure.
I’m not a geologist or an anthropologist,
I tell ya I’m blessed the fact is: I’m just
Digging a hole in the ground. HE’S DIGGING A HOLE IN THE GROUND.
I’m not digging for gold, I’m not digging for coal,
I’m not digging for diamonds, I’m just digging a hole.
When someone from the surface looks down this well
And asks, “Hey what’cha doin’?” They hear me yell:
I’m digging a hole in the ground.
HE’S DIGGING A HOLE IN THE GROUND.
I’m digging a hole. HE’S DIGGING A HOLE.
I’m digging a hole. HE’S DIGGING A HOLE.
I’m digging a hole in the ground.
© Al Simmons 2025
www.alsimmons.com