Some say there's ghosts in the hills And they're black as the coal And voices they scream in the night From the deep dark below There was poor Ivy and Scratch And friends too many to name Who were caught in a thundering landslide And there they'll remain
And I cry Daddy, oh Dad please don't go But he won't be coming home no And mother, dear mom don't you know I'm feeling so old and alone 'Cause I'm the son next in line For the black lung dyin' And just a few come back From the Rocky Mountain mines
We're much too poor to escape The weight of the earth In tunnels and dust and fear We will measure our worth Here's our bones for the soil Our blood for the land Our souls for sweet Jesus Our bodies be damned
And I cry. . .
Well sometimes I wonder Where my Daddy's gone But I know he's gone to the wilderness And he ain't comin' home Then sometimes I get to wondering When it'll be my turn to lie down In that cold dark place, Lord Down under the ground
It's said the mark of Cain Is on the miners head And it don't wash with lye soap 'Til he's good and he's dead I saw my Daddy wave From the top of the hill He said Come along, son I say Soon I will