Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
Tom Paxton
You might hear dogs at midnight
High up a treeless hill
Workin' their own graveyard shift
And howlin' out their fill
While down below in Coal Town
A woman lies awake
And hears her sleeping husband fight
For every breath he takes
Oh, the rockslide may not get you
The fire might pass you by
When the gas goes up
It might not be your time to die
But every year gets harder
To draw a simple breath
When the black lung gets you
That's the kiss of death
You might see old men waiting
On the county courthouse green
Tellin' tales at noontime
Of the bitter sights they've seen
It makes a postcard picture there
Beside the courthouse door
Unless you know just why they're waitin'
And what they're waitin' for
Oh, the rockslide may not get you
The fire might pass you by
When the gas goes up
It might not be your time to die
But every year gets harder
To draw a simple breath
When the black lung gets you
That's the kiss of death
Oh, the rockslide may not get you
The fire might pass you by
When the gas goes up
It might not be your time to die
But every year gets harder
To draw a simple breath
When the black lung gets you
That's the kiss of death
When the black lung gets you
That's the kiss of death