Well it's a miners warnin', and a cold dark sky
The road is climbin', to the stars above
It's a wild land that asks no quarter
And a bitter wind that beguiles the sun
And every stone, weeps for the memory
Of those who died, and those who lost
And the legions came, and stayed to conquer
They thought forever, but fate said no
And the holy man who followed after
Dug for metal, on the hill
And they cursed the gods of winter
That bound the land of snow
And gave blessings, for the springtime
When the sun came shining through
And the songs they sang, were songs of hopin'
Hopin' for the goodtimes still
Now all that remains are the names on the graves
Of those who died on Greenhow Hill
And from the shires and from the lowlands
Travelling people, with the gypsy bones
Sinking shafts and hard rock drivin'
The toil was hard oh as the day was long
Of mother loads and fates like silver
When danger, was just an alibi life was
Cheap and death came easy the
Cold stole all your senses
In the Hades, of the mind
And the songs they sang, were songs of hopin'
Hopin' for the goodtimes still
Now all that remains are the names on the graves
Of those who died on Greenhow Hill