| He was a coal miner in the spring
|
| Blinded with its dusty resolutions
|
| Broke his back for higher contributions
|
| Now he’d take anything
|
| Well, she was nineteen seventy
|
| Burning like a cigarette long season
|
| Heir to all her family’s old treasons
|
| She makes love hard like an enemy
|
| Oh ma, he’s dying
|
| And the river don’t sleep
|
| When the water runs cold
|
| And the calendar burns
|
| As the story unfolds
|
| And the valley spans miles
|
| When the mountain stands high
|
| Can’t they let us run wild
|
| For another midnight
|
| For just another midnight
|
| Perhaps we’re an election day
|
| Pumping hands and kissing all the babies
|
| Ain’t no time for shadowed doubts or maybes
|
| Is there another way?
|
| Or we’re a stolen Cadillac
|
| Racing for a roadblock in the distance
|
| Flashing by a lifetime in an instance
|
| Can we take it back?
|
| Oh ma, he’s dying
|
| Oh ma, he’s dying
|
| And the river don’t sleep
|
| When the water runs cold
|
| And the calendar burns
|
| As the story unfolds
|
| And the valley spans miles
|
| When the mountain stands high
|
| Can’t they let us run wild
|
| For another midnight
|
| Can we take it back?
|
| Can we take it back?
|
| Can we take it back?
|
| Can we take it back?
|
| And the valley spans miles
|
| When the mountain stands high
|
| Can’t they let us run wild
|
| For another midnight
|
| For just another midnight
|
| For just another midnight
|
| For another midnight |