Commentary:
"It was April Twenty-seventh in the year of Ninety-one,
About a mile below the surface and the warm Kentucky sun,
The late shift was ending and the early shift was late,
And the foreman ate his dinner from a dirty tin plate.
"Blood on the tracks, blood in the mine,
Brothers and sister, what a terrible time!
Old Ninety-seven went in the wrong hole,
Now in Mine Number Sixty there's blood on the coal,
Blood on the coal,
Blood on the coal.
"Well, the slag pits were steaming, it was seven twenty-five,
Every miner worked the coal face, every one of them alive,
The train came round the corner, you could hear the trestle groan,
But the switcher wasn't listening, so he left the switch alone.
"Blood on the tracks, blood in the mine,
Brothers and sister, what a terrible time!
Old Ninety-seven went in the wrong hole,
Now in Mine Number Sixty there's blood on the coal,
Blood on the coal,
Blood on the coal.
"Well, the walls began to tremble and the men began to yell,
They could hear that lonesome whistle like an echo out of—well,
They dropped their picks and shovels as to safety they did run,
For to stay amongst the living in the year of Ninety-one…"
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