I come from the mountains, Kentucky's my home
Where the wild deer and black bear so lately did roam
By the cool rushing waterfall the wildflowers dream
And through every green valley, there runs a clear stream
Now there's scenes of destruction on every hand
And only black waters run down through my land
Sad scenes of destruction on every hand
Black waters, black waters, run down through my land
Well, the quail, she's a pretty bird and she sings a sweet tongue
In the roots of tall timber she nests with her young
The the hillside explodes with the dynamites roar
And the voice of the small bird is heard there no more
And the mountain comes a sliding so awful and grand
And the flooding black waters rise over my land
In the coming of springtime we planted our corn
In the ending of springtime we buried our son
In the summer come a nice man saying everything's fine
My employer just requires a way to his mine
Then they tore down my mountain and covered my corn
Now the grave on the hillside 's a mile deeper down
And the man stands a talking with his hat in his hand
While the poison black waters rise over my land
Well I ain't got no money, not much of a home
I own my own land, but my land's not my own
But, if I had ten million, somewheres thereabout
Well, I'd buy Perry county and throw them all out
And just sit down on the banks with my bait and my can
And watch the clear waters run down through my land
Well, wouldn't that be just like the old promised land?
Black waters, black waters no more in my land
Black waters, black waters no more in my land
Where the wild deer and black bear so lately did roam
By the cool rushing waterfall the wildflowers dream
And through every green valley, there runs a clear stream
Now there's scenes of destruction on every hand
And only black waters run down through my land
Sad scenes of destruction on every hand
Black waters, black waters, run down through my land
Well, the quail, she's a pretty bird and she sings a sweet tongue
In the roots of tall timber she nests with her young
The the hillside explodes with the dynamites roar
And the voice of the small bird is heard there no more
And the mountain comes a sliding so awful and grand
And the flooding black waters rise over my land
In the coming of springtime we planted our corn
In the ending of springtime we buried our son
In the summer come a nice man saying everything's fine
My employer just requires a way to his mine
Then they tore down my mountain and covered my corn
Now the grave on the hillside 's a mile deeper down
And the man stands a talking with his hat in his hand
While the poison black waters rise over my land
Well I ain't got no money, not much of a home
I own my own land, but my land's not my own
But, if I had ten million, somewheres thereabout
Well, I'd buy Perry county and throw them all out
And just sit down on the banks with my bait and my can
And watch the clear waters run down through my land
Well, wouldn't that be just like the old promised land?
Black waters, black waters no more in my land
Black waters, black waters no more in my land
inviata da Bernart - 2/7/2013 - 10:21
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Parole di Jean Ritchie
Musica di Jean Ritchie e Peter Pickow (figlio della Ritchie e del fotografo George Pickow)
Dall’album “Clear Waters Remembered” pubblicato nel 1974
Dalle Cumberland Mountains del Kentucky, il suono del dulcimer degli Appalachi e la voce di Jean Ritchie, “The Mother of Folk”, cristallina come dovevano essere le acque di quei posti prima che le industrie minerarie le ammorbassero completamente…