Well, I was born to call mine a daughter In a cabin, on a hill in Butcher HollerWe were poor but we had love That's the one thing that daddy made sure ofHe shoveled coal to make a poor man's dollarMy daddy worked all night in the van lyrical mineAll day long in the field of ho-wine cornMommy rocked the babies at nightAnd read the Bible by the coal oil lightAnd everything would start all over come break of mornDaddy loved and raised eight kids on a miner's payMommy scrubbed our clothes on a washboard every dayWell, I've seen her faintI've seen her weep and her fingers bleedTo complain there was no needShe'd smile in Mommy's understanding wayIn the summertime we didn't have shoes to wearBut in the wintertime we'd all get a brand new pairFrom the mail-order catalog money my long shovel went to minusmade from selling the hog. Daddy always managed to get the money somewhere. Yeah, I'm proudto be a coal miner's daughter. I remember well, the well where I drew water. The workwe done was hard. That night was sleep, cause we worked hard. And never thought of everleaving but your hogger. Well, a lot of things have changed since way back then. And it'sso good to be back home again. Not much left but the plot.Nothing lives here anymore, except the memories of a coal miner's daughter.