in memory of a miner
|
who dragged himself to work
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and worked himself to deathworking for someone else
|
we follow each other around on shaky ground
|
|
his life had become to him
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worthless in many ways
|
an expired product off the shelf
|
working for someone else
|
we follow each other around on shaky ground
|
|
the nature of his work
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gave him a minstrel color
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twenty hours a day
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little time he had for others
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we follow each other around on shaky ground
|
|
never got to see the world
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he got a funeral and this miner's song
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there is no right or wrong
|
|
now it's down to the wire
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facing six feet under
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can only wonder and stare
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his name was a number
|
|
-----------------
|
Shaky Ground
|
| Uncle Tupelo |
