| I remember mountain mornings
|
| So quiet I could almost hear
|
| The wind in the Red Tail’s feathers
|
| And the breathin' of the deer
|
| Those old tracks seem to go forever
|
| As a child I’d walk all day
|
| Finding diamonds in the cinders
|
| And pickin' chunks of coal away
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| As the morning faded to evening
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| Then so to came our time
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| To follow down in my Daddy’s footsteps
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| And leave the mountain for the mine
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| We’d always bring a proud canary
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| Our link to the world of air
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| And we knew while she kept singin'
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| We wouldn’t suffocate down there
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| While the Mockin' Bird warbled
|
| Near the mountain stream
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| Down in the mine
|
| A canary sang
|
| In a deep dark hole
|
| Men didn’t belong
|
| We listened to our lives
|
| In a canary’s song
|
| (instrumental)
|
| We’d listen for the sunlight
|
| For wings against the sky
|
| We’d listen for the dreams
|
| That make men try
|
| Once again I left the mountain
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| To find work when the mine shut down
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| Those old tracks don’t go forever
|
| The end in this hole they call uptown
|
| All I brought was this canary
|
| As I wake from dreams of home
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| While I pray I’ll hear her singin' |
| And fear a silence cold as stone
|
| While the Mockin' Bird warbles
|
| Near the mountain stream
|
| In a cold water room
|
| A canary sings
|
| Livin' in this hole
|
| Where I don’t belong
|
| I listen to my life
|
| In a canary’s song
|
| While the Mockin' Bird warbles
|
| Near the mountain stream
|
| In a cold water room
|
| A canary sings
|
| Livin' in this hole
|
| Where I don’t belong
|
| I listen to my life
|
| In a canary’s song
|
| (Instrumental close) |