Pre>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 heroAm 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 dieBack 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 questionsHere'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 dieAnd 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 warningHere'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 dieIn 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 highwayHere'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 dieThe state it was texas, the town it was dallas
In the flash of a rifle a life was soon over
And nobody thought of the past million murders
And the long list of irony(? ) had found a new championHere'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/pre>