When the wind blows wild at night
in the breaker's melancholy.
If you stand in the dark with your ear to the wind
you can hear the Sons of Molly.
Down in the dark of the old mine shaft
you can smell the smoke and the fire.
And the whispers low in the mines below
are the ghost of Molly Maguire.
Let me tell you boys Michel Doyle is my name
and I come from Carbon County.
I shot the boss of the Lansford Mine
and my soul is up for bounty.
But I will die with my head held high
for I fought for the men below.
For the men who slave and sweat and die
Down in that black hell hole.
Let me tell you boys Everett Kelly is my name
and I'm hanging in the morning.
I shot John Jones for my skin and bones
and I curse the sound of mourning.
But I will die with my head held high
for I fought for the men below.
For the men who slave and sweat and die
Down in that black hell hole.
Let me tell you boys Alex Campbell is my name
and no pistol did I fire.
Yet I will fall from the gallows wall
just for being a Molly Maguire.
But I will die with my head held high
for I fought for the men below.
For the men who slave and sweat and die
Down in that black hell hole.
When the wind blows wild at night
in the breaker's melancholy.
If you stand in the dark with your ear to the wind
you can hear the Sons of Molly.
Down in the dark of the old mine shaft
you can smell the smoke and the fire.
And the whispers low in the mines below
are the ghost of Molly Maguire.
in the breaker's melancholy.
If you stand in the dark with your ear to the wind
you can hear the Sons of Molly.
Down in the dark of the old mine shaft
you can smell the smoke and the fire.
And the whispers low in the mines below
are the ghost of Molly Maguire.
Let me tell you boys Michel Doyle is my name
and I come from Carbon County.
I shot the boss of the Lansford Mine
and my soul is up for bounty.
But I will die with my head held high
for I fought for the men below.
For the men who slave and sweat and die
Down in that black hell hole.
Let me tell you boys Everett Kelly is my name
and I'm hanging in the morning.
I shot John Jones for my skin and bones
and I curse the sound of mourning.
But I will die with my head held high
for I fought for the men below.
For the men who slave and sweat and die
Down in that black hell hole.
Let me tell you boys Alex Campbell is my name
and no pistol did I fire.
Yet I will fall from the gallows wall
just for being a Molly Maguire.
But I will die with my head held high
for I fought for the men below.
For the men who slave and sweat and die
Down in that black hell hole.
When the wind blows wild at night
in the breaker's melancholy.
If you stand in the dark with your ear to the wind
you can hear the Sons of Molly.
Down in the dark of the old mine shaft
you can smell the smoke and the fire.
And the whispers low in the mines below
are the ghost of Molly Maguire.
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