Come gather 'round friends and I'll tell you a tale

Of when the red iron pits ran a-plenty

But the cardboard-filled windows and old men on the benches

Tell you now that the whole town is empty In the north end of town my own children are grown

But I was raised on the other

In the wee hours of youth my mother took sick

And I was brought up by my brother The iron ore poured as the years passed the door

The drag lines an' the shovels they was a-humming

'Till one day my brother failed to come home

The same as my father before him Well, a long winter's wait from the window I watched

My friends they couldn't have been kinder

And my schooling was cut as I quit in the spring

To marry John Thomas, a miner Oh, the years passed again, and the giving was good

With the lunch bucket filled every season

What with three babies born, the work was cut down

To a half a day's shift with no reason Then the shaft was soon shut, and more work was cut

And the fire in the air, it felt frozen

'Till a man come to speak, and he said in one week

That number eleven was closing They complained in the East, they are paying too high

They say that your ore ain't worth digging

That it's much cheaper down in the South American towns

Where the miners work almost for nothing So the mining gates locked, and the red iron rotted

And the room smelled heavy from drinking

Where the sad, silent song made the hour twice as long

As I waited for the sun to go sinking I lived by the window as he talked to himself

This silence of tongues it was building

'Till one morning's wake, the bed it was bare

And I was left alone with three children The summer is gone, the ground's turning cold

The stores one by one they're all folding

My children will go as soon as they grow

Well, there ain't nothing here now to hold them