There’re people at the King’s all-night diner
He’s standing outside shivering in the snow
All them city folks, but he’s just a miner
With an old pick up truck and no place to go
He came down from Eastern Kentucky
When she walked out and broke his heart
Lord, what’s a miner to do in the city
Far from his home, he’s looking for a start
His sun’s been down two days in a row
So he waits outside, just hoping for a bite
But the show goes on and they’ll never know
‘Bout the man who’s dying in the cold outside
So he takes his fiddle and he starts to play
Song for the lonely who’ve lost their way
He worked back home in a dark old mine
Oh till the day, the boss let him go
And sitting at the diner, he spends his time
And sings for the love he knew long ago
So he takes his fiddle and he starts to play
Song for the lonely till night turns to day
Here at the diner, you’ll hear the tale
Of an old Kentucky miner who sang each night
Even when his fingers grew cold and pale
He played on with all his might
But time’s moved on and he’s been gone
Gone oh forever, far up in the sky
But you might see sometimes at dawn
A man by the diner who never said goodbye
So this is the story, as you’ll hear them say
Of the old Kentucky miner, and songs he’d play.
Gautam Dhar
22 January 2005
Lansing MI