Come gather 'round friends and I'll tell you a taleOf when the red iron pits ran a-plentyBut the cardboard-filled windows and old men on the benchesTell you now that the whole town is empty
In the north end of town my own children are grownBut I was raised on the otherIn the wee hours of youth my mother took sickAnd I was brought up by my brother
The iron ore poured as the years passed the doorThe drag lines an' the shovels they was a-humming'Till one day my brother failed to come homeThe same as my father before him
Well, a long winter's wait from the window I watchedMy friends they couldn't have been kinderAnd my schooling was cut as I quit in the springTo marry John Thomas, a miner
Oh, the years passed again, and the giving was goodWith the lunch bucket filled every seasonWhat with three babies born, the work was cut downTo a half a day's shift with no reason
Then the shaft was soon shut, and more work was cutAnd the fire in the air, it felt frozen'Till a man come to speak, and he said in one weekThat number eleven was closing
They complained in the East, they are paying too highThey say that your ore ain't worth diggingThat it's much cheaper down in the South American townsWhere the miners work almost for nothing
So the mining gates locked, and the red iron rottedAnd the room smelled heavy from drinkingWhere the sad, silent song made the hour twice as longAs I waited for the sun to go sinking
I lived by the window as he talked to himselfThis silence of tongues it was building'Till one morning's wake, the bed it was bareAnd I was left alone with three children
The summer is gone, the ground's turning coldThe stores one by one they're all foldingMy children will go as soon as they growWell, there ain't nothing here now to hold them
