Pennsylvania Coal
Crabtree Pennsylvania
A sleepy little town
Everything that kept her going
Was lying under ground

My grandpa worked the mine
And then he worked the farm
Eight hours in the dark
Six hours in the sun

And every day
Hear that whistle blow
To make a better life for someone down the road
And pray one day the ones you love will know
You don’t sell your soul for another load of Pennsylvania coal

My grandma made and sold corn liquor
To buy the families’ shoes
For that little so called luxury
That’s what she had to do
First generation American and proud
She wouldn’t talk about it
But I’m here to tell it now