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"