C Am

Many's the hour I've lain by my window

C Am

and thought of the people who carried the burden

C Am

Who marched in the strange fields in search of an answers

C Am G

And ended their journeys an unwilling hero



Am Em Am G

Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why

Em Am

And a toast of the wine at the end of the line

D7 G

And a toll of the bell for the next one to die



Back in the coal fields of old Harlan county

Some talked of the union, some talked of good wages

And they lined them up in the dark of the forests

And shot them down without asking no questions



Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why

And a toast of the wine to the end of the line

And a toll of the bell for the next one to die



And over the ocean, to the red Spanish soil

came the lincoln brigade with their dreams

But they fell in the fire of germany's bombing

And they fell 'cause no one would hear their sad warning



Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why

And a toast of the wine at the end of the line

And a toll of the bell for the next one to die



In old Alabama, in old Mississippi

Two states of the union so often found guilty

They came on the busses, they came on the marches

And they lay in the jails or they fell by the highway



Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why

And a toast of the wine at the end of the line

And a toll of the bell for the next one to die



The s