Tossed and turned the night before in some old motel Subconsciously recallin' some old sinful thing I'd done My buddy drove the car and those big coal trucks shook us up As we drove on into Hyden in the early morning sun Past the hound dogs and some domineckered chickens Temporary-lookin' houses with their lean and bashful kids Every hundred yards a sign proclaimed that Christ was coming soon And I thought, "Well, man, he'd sure be disappointed if he did." On the way we talked about the 40 miners Of the 39 who died and one who lived to tell the tale We stopped for beans and cornbread at the Ed & Lois Cafe Then went to see the sherrif at the Leslie County Jail They took us to the scene of that disaster I was so surprised to not find any sign of death at all Just another country hillside with some mudholes and some junk The mines were deadly silent like a rathole in the wall "It was just like being right inside of a shotgun." The old man coughed and lit a cigarette that he had rolled Back in town I bought a heavy jacket from a store It was sunny down in Hyden but somehow the town was cold The old man introduced the undertaker Who seemed refreshed despite the kind of work I knew he did We talked about the pretty lady from the Grand Ole Opry An' we talked about the money she was raisin' for the kids Well, I guess the old man thought we were reporters He kept reminding me of how his simple name was spelled Some lady said, "They worth more money now than when they's a-livin'. " And I'll leave it there 'cause I suppose she told it pretty well