Silent Picks

Five hundred feet

beneath the hill

The morning air is cold and still

We work the seam

of heavy black

And pray the timber doesn't crack (Lord help us now) In the

dark of the coal fields,

the black dust blows

Paying our debts where the cold wind goes

Heavy is the burden on the mountain's chest

No time for sleep,

and no time for rest

(no rest below)

My father's cough

is hard and deep

A debt of years

he had to keep

The company store

owns all we make

For every breath

of dust we take

(we

take) In the dark of the coal fields,

the black dust blows

Paying our debts where the cold wind goes

Heavy is the burden on the mountain's chest

No time for sleep,

and no time for rest

(no

rest

below) And the whistle screams out in the afternoon

A warning that came too cold and too soon

We dig for the light,

we pray for the air

Just a hand full of dust

and a broken prayer

In the dark of the coal fields,

the black dust blows

Paying our debts where the cold wind goes

Heavy is the burden on the mountain's chest

No time for sleep,

and

no time for rest

(no rest below) No rest below...

(humm mm mm)