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When I was a curly-headed baby |
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My daddy set me down on his knee |
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Saying |
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Son you go to school, you learn your letters |
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Don't you be no dusty miner, boy like me |
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I was born and raised at the mouth of the Hazard Holler |
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Where the coal cars rolled and rumbled past my door |
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But now they stand in a rusty row of all empties |
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Because the L & N don't stop here anymore |
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I used to think my father was a black man |
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With scrip enough to buy the company store |
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But now he goes to town with empty pockets |
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And his face is as white as the February snow |
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I was born and raised at the mouth of the Hazard Holler |
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Where the coal cars rolled and rumbled past my door |
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But now they stand in a rusty road of all empties |
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Because the L & N don't stop here anymore |
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Never thought I'd live to lean to love the coaldust |
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Never thought I'd pray to hear those temples roar |
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But God I wish the grass would turn to money |
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And then them greenbacks would fill my pockets once more |
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I was born and raised at the mouth of the Hazard Holler |
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Where the coal cars rolled and rumbled past my door |
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But now they stand in a rusty road of all empties |
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Because the L & N don't stop here anymore |
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Last night I dreamed I went down to the office |
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To get my payday like I done before |
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But them old kudzu vines was covering the doorway |
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And there was leaves and grass growing up through the floor |
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I was born and raised at the mouth of the Hazard Holler |
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Where the coal cars rolled and rumbled past my door |
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But now they stand in a rusty road of all empties |
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Because the L & N don't stop here anymore |
