Tank's Poetry
Tank's Poetry |
united states mine rescue association
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Well, I was born a coal miner's daughter... In a cabin, on a hill in Butcher Holler We were poor, but we had love That's the one thing that daddy made sure of He shoveled coal to make a poor man's dollar Well, I was born a coal miner's daughter... In a cabin, on a hill in Butcher Holler We were poor, but we had love That's the one thing that daddy made sure of He shoveled coal to make a poor man's dollar My daddy worked all night in the Vanleer coal mines All day long in the field a-hoein' corn Mommy rocked the babies at night And read the Bible by the coal oil light And ever' thing would start all over come break of morn' Daddy loved and raised eight kids on a miner's pay Mommy scrubbed our clothes on a washboard ev'ry day Why, I've seen her fingers bleed To complain there was no need She'd smile in Mommy's understanding way In the summertime we didn't have shoes to wear But in the wintertime we'd all get a brand new pair From a mail order catalog Money made from sellin' a hog Daddy always managed to get the money somewhere Yeah! I'm proud to be a coal miner's daughter I remember well, the well where I drew water The work we done was hard At night we'd sleep 'cause we were tired I never thought of ever leaving Butcher Holler Well alot of things have changed since way back then And it's so good to be back home again Not much left but the floor Nothing lives sh'ere anymore Except the mem'ries of a coal miner's daughter |
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