Come gather round, friends,
Now the cardboard -filled windows,
the old men on the benches
I tell you now, the whole town is empty
In the north end of town,
my own children have grown
I was raised on the other,
in the wee hours of youth,
I was brought up by my brother,
as the years passed the door
The drag lines and the shovels,
he just failed to come home
The same as my father before him
Well, a long winter's wait
from the window I watched
they could n't have been kinder
An d my schooling was cut
Till with three babies born
And a half a day's shift with no reason
And the shaft was soon shut
And the fire in the air felt frozen,
and then a man comes to speak,
he said number eleven was closing,
or they're complaining in east
that they're paying too high.
And they say that your ore
that it's much cheaper down in
the South American in the town,
So the mining gates locked
smelled heavy from drinking.
made the hour twice as long,
as it waited for the sun to go sinking.
and I bet it was bedtime.
and now the summer is gone
and the ground is turning cold.
just as soon as they grow
There ain't nothing left here now