Betty lit a cigarette today Ancient fumbling fingers in her way
From a forty year old coffee cup she sipped a bit of gin
Closed her eyes and let the memories in She lives in the old place all alone
Keeps in touch with neighbors by the phone Grows roses on the graves of her first born
And his father and the coal trucks never bothered her
Oh, Lydia, let him go, the boy is gone Her mother struggled as she tore him from her arms
Oh, Lydia, your tears are heaven's rain But she never was the same
A cotton dress and satin shoes Indian summer sun dressed in amber hues
Spending time with a coal miner's son To an old time fiddle tune
Months flew by just like a breeze that year They wed in June and by the fall the boy was here
Word come down from Big Stone there's a fire in the mine And eleven men they couldn't find
Oh, Lydia, let him go, the boy is gone Her mother struggled as she tore him from her arms
Oh, Lydia, your tears are heaven's rain But she never was the same
She watched them pull him from the hole The overalls he wore were blackened by the smoke
Lydia twice had had this dream And twice it had come true
And when she saw his father's boots she knew
Oh, Lydia, let him go, the boy is gone Her mother struggled as she tore him from her arms
Oh, Lydia, your tears are heaven's rain But she never was the same
Lydie lit a cigarette to take Ancient fumbling fingers in her waist
From a forty-year-old coffee cup she sipped a bit of gin Closed her eyes and let the memories in