Lyrics:

( Jean Ritchie)

when I Was A Curly Headed Baby
my Daddy Set Me Down On His Knee
saying, 'son You Go To School
you Learn Your Letters
now, Don't You Be No Dusty Miner, Boy, Like Me'

oh, I Was Born And Raised At The Mouth Of The Hazzard Holler
where The Coal Cars Rolled And Rumbled Past My Door
now They Stand In A Rusty Row Of All Empties
because The Ln Don't Stop Here Anymore

i Used To Think My Daddy Was A Black Man
with Scrip Enough To Buy The Company Store
but Now He Goes To Town With Empty Pockets
and, Lord, His Face Is White
as The February Snow

i Was Born And Raised At The Mouth Of The Hazzard Holler
where The Coal Cars Rolled And Rumbled Past My Door
but Now They Stand In A Rusty Row Of All Empties
because The Ln Don't Stop Here Anymore

never Thought I'd Live To Learn To Love The Coaldust
never Thought I'd Pray To Hear Those Temples Roar
but, God, I Wish The Grass Would Turn To Money
and Then Them Greenbacks
would Fill My Pockets Once More

i Was Born And Raised At The Mouth Of The Hazzard Holler
where The Coal Cars Rolled And Rumbled Past My Door
but Now They Stand In A Rusty Row Of All Empties
because The Ln Don't Stop Here Anymore

last Night I Dreamed I Went Down To The Office
to Get My Payday Like I Done Before
but Them Old Kudzu Vines, They Was Covering Over The Doorway
and There Was Leaves And Grass
growing Right Up To The Floor

i Was Born And Raised At The Mouth Of The Hazzard Holler
where The Coal Cars Rolled And Rumbled Past My Door
but Now They Stand In A Rusty Row Of All Empties
because The Ln Don't Stop Here Anymore
because The Ln Don't Stop Here Anymore
aw, The Ln Don't Stop Here Anymore