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In the deep dark hills of Eastern Kentucky |
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That's the place where I traced my bloodline |
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And it's there I read on a hillside gravestone |
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"You'll never leave Harlan alive" |
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Oh my grandfather's Dad crossed the Cumberland Mountains |
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Where he took a pretty girl to be his bride |
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Said, "Won't you walk with me out of the mouth of this holler |
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Or we'll never leave Harlan alive" |
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Where the sun comes up about ten in the mornin' |
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And the sun goes down about three in the day |
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And you'll fill your cup with whatever bitter brew you're drinkin' |
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And you spend your life just thinkin' of how to get away |
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No one ever knew there was coal in them mountains |
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Till a man from the northeast arrived |
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Waving hundred dollar bills, said, "I'll pay you for your minerals" |
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But he never left Harlan alive |
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Grandma sold out cheap and they moved out west of Pike ville |
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To a farm where Big Richland River winds |
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And I bet they danced them a jig and they laughed and sang a new song |
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"Who said we'd never leave Harlan alive" |
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But the times got hard and tobacco wasn't selling |
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And old Granddad knew what he'd do to survive |
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He went and dug for Harlan coal and sent the money back to Grandma |
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But he never left Harlan alive |
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Where the sun comes up about ten in the mornin' |
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And the sun goes down about three in the day |
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And you'll fill your cup with whatever bitter brew you're drinkin' |
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And you spend your life digging coal from the bottom of your grave |
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You'll never leave Harlan alive |