| Oh say did you see him, it was early this morning
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| He passed all your houses on his way to the coal
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| He was tall, he was slender, and his dark eyes so tender
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| His occupation was mining, West Virginia his home
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| It was just before twelve, I was feeding the children
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| Ben Mosley came running to bring us the news
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| Number eight is all flooded, many men are in danger
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| And we don’t know their number, but we fear they’re all doomed
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| So I picked up the baby and I left all the others
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| To comfort each other and to pray for their own
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| There’s Tommy, fourteen, and there’s John not much younger
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| Their own time soon will be coming to go down the black hole
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| And what will I say to his poor little children
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| And what will I tell his dear mother at home
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| And what will I say to my heart that’s clear broken
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| To my heart that’s clear broken if my baby is gone
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| Now if I had the money to do more than just feed them
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| I’d give them good learning, the best could be found
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| So when they growed up they’d be checkers and weighers
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| And not spend their life digging in the dark underground
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| Say did you see him, it was early this morning
|
| He passed all your houses on his way to the coal
|
| He was tall, he was slender, and his dark eyes so tender
|
| His occupation was mining, West Virginia his home |