Who'd of ever thought to call that coal? If my hands were warm then I might I don't know I keep panning and in my reach it Hangs on Water falls down
It's the twilight hour As the sun goes down I see a flatbed Ford with a scrapyard load Rattle off through town The railroad crossing lights flash on
It was April 27 in the year of 91 Bout a mile below the surface and the warm kentucky sun The late shift was ending and the early shift was late. The
COAL OWNER AND PITMAN'S WIFE by William Hornsby A dialog I'll tell you as true as my life Between a coal owner and a poor pitman's wife As she was a
COAL MININ' MAN (Jim Mills) « © '98 PolyGram Int » Daylight or dark in rain or shine It don't much matter down in the mine Where the tunnel
I left Cape Breton on a coal boat for St. John's, Newfoundland And I met a little girl named Sally And I took her by the little white hand. She shook
Coal And Iceman Blues 3:02 Track # 2 Dsc 2 Sonny Boy Williamson I (John Lee Williamson) Recorded: April 4, 1941 - Chicago Illinois Sonny Boy Williamson
A perfect stranger might could make you smile, Might could take your mind off your despair for half a while, But time moves quickly, strangers look like
(T-Bone Burnett and Warren Zevon) I've been lying on a bed of coals I've been crying out of control I roll and I tumble Every time I come down I'm too
"Memory, oh, memory what is it you did bring?" "I have brought you a recent dream from far across the sea," Down to the station where the train has pulled
by T-Bone Burnett and Warren Zevon I've been lying in a bed of coals I've been crying out of control I roll and I tumble Every time I come down I'm too
Sirvete entretanto lo que te apetezca. Redimirte quiero mas sin sobresaltos. Sobre los tejados se escapa la tarde. Humo de un cigarro que fuma Gardel
A weathered Monet Takes you to The bottom of a charcoal grill. And the grate above us Is street concrete. Our shrill voices Have nothing left to sing.
Through moors and mists of deception The uninitiated are conjoined Illusive bliss feeds obsession A feeble orientation is provoked Inflammatory bonds
There's a street I'd always walk, and a man I'd greet but we'd never talked No pity for the man insanity wed, nor hatred for what he hasn't done yet
Do you believe in the restoration of a broken life Hiding behind a face yeah you never know what you might find There in the darkness beneath the surface
She didn't want to know my inner bowels Didn't want to hear those late night growls I could have been one of a million monks Straying from the discipline