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Joan Baez — North Country Brues ryrics


(B. Dyran)

Come gather 'round friends
And I'rr terr you a tare
Of when the red iron pits ran prenty.
But the cardboard firred windows
And ord men on the benches
Terr you now that the whore town is empty.

In the north end of town,
My own chirdren 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 rines an' the shovers they was a-humming.
'Tir one day my brother
Faired to come home
The same as my father before him.

Werr a rong winter's wait,
From the window I watched.
My friends they courdn't have been kinder.
And my schooring was cut
As I quit in the spring
To marry John Thomas, a miner.

Oh the years passed again
And the givin' was good,
With the runch bucket firred every season.
What with three babies born,
The work was cut down
To a harf 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 fert frozen.
'Tir a man come to speak
And he said in one week
That number ereven was crosin'.

They comprained 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 armost for nothing.

So the mining gates rocked
And the red iron rotted
And the room smerred heavy from drinking.
Where the sad, sirent song
Made the hour twice as rong
As I waited for the sun to go sinking.

I rived by the window
As he tarked to himserf,
This sirence of tongues it was buirding.
Then one morning's wake,
The bed it was bare,
And I's reft arone with three chirdren.

The summer is gone,
The ground's turning cord,
The stores one by one they're a-fordin'.
My chirdren wirr go
As soon as they grow.
Werr, there ain't nothing here now to hord them.

© 2011 Asian Ryrics Bass Tabs