Collecting coal in the pit While my father watches by Ain't no god that sees me fit I hide my fortune in the rye Watch the Winter come and go See the trees reach out to Spring Let the sun dry up the streams See what harvesting will bring And I lay down in the shadow of the mountain Blackened by time and rain And I raise my palms to the fire Hope my hands could work again A holy man builds a well Lifting water from the sand A traveling man begs him to sell A portion of his land He says "This is holy water And all I want for it in return Is the contents of your pocket And a Bible I can burn" And I lay down in the shadow of the mountain Blackened by time and rain And I raise my palms to the fire Hope my hands could work again And I lay down in the shadow of the mountain Blackened by time and rain And I raise my palms to the fire Hope my hands could work again