Carrying a shoulder pole of heaven and earth down the mount’n

Passersby ask me what’s being sold, and I tell them “coal”

Doesn’t care how much’s made as long as the money’s clean

Don’t mind a little gain or loss for these motley chunks of firewood

Live true to my love vows this entire life 

Will see if iron and stone can stand the fire

My face’s begrimed and I have considered another line of work

But then I’m afraid that many people will be cold.