The Original
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Oh it's a hard time in the mountains, & hard times in the
mines, everyone I see is "on the take"
While the judges pound out justice & the politician
smiles, I swear my achin' back's about to break
They're buyin' up on Wall street, I heard it in the news,
sellin' guns & steel & God & grain
They're buyin' politicians & they're buyin' presidents
& they're sellin' the workin' man right down the drain
So sing a song for the workin' man, for the callous on his
hands, for the world upon his shoulders
May he forever stand ! in his Brogan boots & one
"good suit", Here's to the workin' man
Now the rich man's got his money, & the poor man's got
"the Lord"
But the workin' man's got nothing, that he cannot afford
The poor man's got religion & the rich man's got his gold
But the workin man's got nothin' boys, that ain't been bought
& sold
So he puts in time at the factory & he slaves down in
those mills
Goin' down to a hole in the ground, tryin' to pay his bills
One week a month to pay the bank, another for the rent
Before the month is all worked out, the money's all been spent
You've been carryin' heartache 'round these small and dirty
towns
Clutched-up in your heart and soul Bluefield to Wheeling town
I've seen you down in the coal mine shacks, in the mountains
of the north
And the southern farmlands cracked your hands, to show these
men your worth
West Virginia Girl I've loved you from the start, WVa Girl
these songs I sing for you
For I know God loves you in his heart, God knows I love you
too
With all the weight of decades upon you as you strive
With the poverty around your door, the wisdom in your eyes
Don't the coal dust ever make you weep as it sifts into your
sod
Don't your tears e'er seem to blur your sleep, come a dreamin'
out for God
You have seen your sons and husbands carried from those mines
With a "coal tattoo" deep in their chest, a death
stare in their eyes
Down in Farmington I heard your cries and I felt your misery
too
Small comfort tho' my song may bring, I'm singin' it for you
Now I sing this song for every West Virginia Girl I've known
And for every one I'll never know who shares this mountain
home
For my Mama and my Grandma, all who gave their love to me
For the Gypsy and her mother, and the "one who would not
be"
Now I was born a West Virginian, my family roots branch
through the state
My Grandma lies beside her Mother, in that cold Wirt County
slate
Ever since I was a little baby, Ive been living in these hills
I've been playing in these waters, before I'd see it gone, I'd
rather kill
Don't take these hills, don't change these waters, always let
their beauty be
As long as we have got our homeland, Mountaineers Are Always
Free
Oh, I was raised by the Ohio River, but the woodland streams
I've always loved
I'd walk barefoot in their clear water, with the silent skies
above
I've always loved the rolling mountains, the Indian Hen and
the hollow Beech
The sweetest Paw Paw and Persimmon, hanging only out of reach
Oh my Grand dad worked the farm and railroad, my Daddy the
farm and factory
But if I'd lose this land I live on, where in God's name would
my children be
I've heard you speak the words of progress, in those shattered
hills that lie
Like broken bones, teeth of the mountains, grinning at your
smoke-filled sky
When I see her beauty sometimes I wonder, of the beauty gone
before
Yet the West Virginia of my Grand dad, I know it's gone
forevermore
But when I am gone and long forgotten, when my Grandson's
children have grown old
May the ancient hills of West Virginia, remain as young as
they are old
Come a rollin' 'round south West Virginia, in the coal camps
and tarpaper shacks
Where the mark of a man is the dirt on his hands, and the
strength that he's got in his back
So come all of you miners and follow, and you Mothers and
widows and wives
To the counties of fame with the Indian names, where the
Indians forfeit their lives
Oh the pages of hist'ry are blackened with a mixture of coal
dust and blood
With the Tug River feuds and the miner's disputes and the
people washed down in the flood
Aracoma, the Indian princess, to the cold setting sun she has
gone
And the justice she got from the white man she fought, Logan
courthouse stands over her bones
Oh the struggle is ageless and endless and there ain't a whole
lot can be done
'Cause they keep a man poor with their "company
store" and they talk with their money and guns
So the dreams of the children are stifled and they move on as
soon as they can
On the broken-down roads from the truck over-loads with the
broken-down dreams of a man
Lift your hearts for the souls of the lost ones, raise your
hands for the children of strife
For as Mother Jones said we must pray for the dead and fight
like hell for them that's still alive
Oh it's fare-thee-well now boys I'm leaving down the highway
that I love the best
With the wind like a knife in my overall coat and my heart
like a stone in my breast
The hills are alone and forsaken like me they're paying their
dues
With the wind in the trees moaning sad melodies I'm a crying
these coal country blue
Buffalo Creek swelled and broke and all it's water came
roaring down
Sweeping away the homes and lives in a West Virginia town
And in that cold and raging flood more than a hundred people
drowned
Some say the flood was caused by rain and some say melting
snow
But deep down in my heart I think the coal mine bosses know
They strip off all the topsoil and uproot all the trees
They killed those folks in Buffalo Creek now shrug the blame
with ease
Don't give a damn for life or land they just roll on like they
please
The Governor said the flood was just an act of God's own will
But the strippers tear these mountains down it's enough to
make me ill
The rape of Appalachia for a greenback dollar bill
Buffalo Creek Buffalo Creek, a coal mine bosses' show
Buffalo Creek Buffalo Creek, how could thay sink so low
How can we let this kind of thing go on before our eyes
When coal mine bosses trade our lives for nickels and for
dimes
I beg you folks to stop these men, don't let this happen twice
Can't you see those people drowning there, can't you hear
their mournful cries
I hear them in the falling rain they haunt me in the snow
Buffalo Creek Buffalo Creek, a coal mine bosses' show
Buffalo Creek Buffalo Creek, when will you people know
And when will you folks tell these boys to pack their gear and
go
Well I got a girl in Gilmer County, she's a country woman she
ain't no "towny"
She's a dancer and a sweet romancer, when I got the question
she got the answer
And there ain't nothin' in the whole wide world, like the love
of my brown-eyed country girl
She can build a fence she can ride a pony, but if she rides
away it's gonna make me lonely
She lives way back in them Sinking Creek hills, she tells me
country livin's givin' her a thrill
But there ain't nothin' sets my heart awhirl, like the love of
my brown-eyed country girl
I'm lovin' my brown-eyed country girl, I'm lovin' my
brown-eyed country girl
I'm lovin' my brown-eyed country girl, I'm lovin' my
brown-eyed country girl
Well me and my baby ain't got no money, but we're livin' in
the land of milk and honey
'Cause we got something yo' money can't buy, we got our love
and that's worth a try
Oh, I don't need no diamonds and pearls, just the love of my
brown-eyed country girl
Well the concrete highways and the country roads and miles
beneath my feet
Standin' freezin' in the pouring rain, singin' in the city
streets
Takin' my pleasure where I can, payin' all the hard time dues
Chasin' my dreams 'til my hungry heart's worn holes in both my
shoes
But there's a laughing river and a crying rain, blue sky up
above
Highway rollin' thru the countryside takes me to the one I
love
I got my big wheel roll and my little wheel spin
So take me back home again
When I first left home I was just a boy I know I let my people
down
But feet were burnin' and my ears were yearnin' to hear the
highway sound
To wrap the wind about me in a misty dream, a shawl of living
light
Let the four winds carry my moon and stars across the universe
of night
Well my Pa said, " Son you turn around one time and a
young man you will find
Turn around two times and you're a old, old man with your
death not far behind
Well my yesterday's dead my today's are old, my life will soon
be gone
Just a ramblin' and gamblin' and singin' my song like tomorrow
might never come...you see
Oh Mama, it's so damn good to be with you tonight
I can't love you like I know I should but everything's gonna
be alright
One of these days I'm gonna settle down, Quit my rollin' from
town to town
But it's fall down, jump up, turn myself around, listen to the
highway sound
Oh Mama, it's been so long since I tasted your sweet wine
Ooo baby make me feel so fine, do it every time
Well de standin's long and de rides is few, but I'd walk all
the way just to get to you
And it's fall down, jump up, turn myself around, listen to the
highway sound
Oh Mama, give me one more kiss just before I have to leave
Oh Mama, won't you please don't cry, mama won't you please
don't grieve
My thirsty boots have been filled with sand, it's hard times
lovin' a ramblin' man
Fall down, jump up, turn myself around, listen to the highway
sound
I've seen some bad times and it's a hard cold world
I've seen the wrong that men can do to men
But I've never seen a bad or a harder time
Than the time I learned my lessons, at the feet of Nue Ba Den
Away down south in the Parrot's Beak, at the Mount of the
Black Virgin
Never seen a hotter day or a darker night
Where the sightless terror grows with every sound
The air so thick and dangerous it's hard to catch you breath
With the bullets and the "skeeters" flyin' round
Oh we rode a winged horse all along that border
Across the Mustang trail we left dead men
Heroes every one of them theirs and ours alike
Their blood the same damned color in the mud 'neath Nue Ba Den
Red-black, red-white, red-yellow, at the Mount of the Black
Virgin
Oh we dug our holes deep in the Hobo woods
With what we carried on our backs and in our hearts
And we stood a lonely vigil, in a frightful land
And we struck a blow for freedom at the feet of Nue Ba Den
Slaves in the chains of freedom at the Mount of the Black
Virgin
And we most were children, fodder for their cannon
We grew old and we died with what we learned
As their knowledge pierced our beings just as surely as hot
lead
'Til we the living were the dead returned
Oh we marched in the jungles and on the streets of D.C
And we stood and we fought for what we thought was right
But they spit on us at Oakland and they shot us down at Kent
We were sons of the sons of Liberty thru freedom's darkest
night
Sons of the sons of Liberty thru freedom's darkest night
They are not self-sustaining they're self-perpetuating madness
They take our smoke, our dreams, our visions
And, yet, allow they're blindness
Chief Black Eyed Logan you were right
The pipe of peace but clay and wood, was holy in you touch
Chief Black Eyed Logan turn your head
The pipe of peace is broken, Aracoma is but dust
They know not our Wakan-Tonka, "Great Mystery" all
about
They ridicule the great ghost dances with long knives,
Guns and bibles cut and burn away the doubt
Deep in their circle lies seeds that bring the waste of their
destruction
Their children play on poison ground in schoolyards where
they're given false instruction
They spend our money, guns and bombs, atomic lust
Deny our own their self-protection
War-maker steals away the dust of the buffalo
Gold and silver, blue turquoise, self-respect and nation