The L&N Don't Stop Here Anymore - Kathy Mattea

When I was a curly headed baby

My daddy sat me down on his knee

He said, «son, go to school and get your letters,

Don’t you be a dusty coal miner, boy, like me.»

I was born and raised at the mouth of hazard hollow

The coal cars rolled and rumbled past my door

But now they stand in a rusty row all empty

Because the l & n don’t stop here anymore

I used to think my daddy was a black man

With script enough to buy the company store

But now he goes to town with empty pockets

And his face is white as a February snow

I never thought I’d learn to love the coal dust

I never thought I’d pray to hear that whistle roar

Oh, god, I wish the grass would turn to money

And those green backs would fill my pockets once more

Last night I dreamed I went down to the office

To get my pay like a had done before

But them ol' kudzu vines were coverin' the door

And there were leaves and grass growin' right up through the floor