independence, pt. 2

The Miner's Goodbye

Hitch any horse to my wagon,
give me a wide open track,
give me a bottle of Bourbon, friend,
and I won't ever be back.

I'm going over that mountain
far away from this claim.
I've spent my days in tunnels dark
and the rocks all know my name.

The chain that lowers the ore carts,
the chain that binds men to gold.
Chains have grown where my hands were.
I'm chained to the mother lode.

For some men the mine's a cruel mistress,
they court her with lust and regret.
The timber's groan, the ringing of stone
is a love song they cannot forget.

I came a young man of 25 years,
I'll leave by the same muddy street.
Torn and tattered the coat on my back,
bloody the boots on my feet.

Hitch any horse to my wagon,
give me a wide open track,
give me a bottle of Bourbon, friend,
and I won't ever be back.