Miners, Ghost Towns and Gold

[good4somethingbum]

Miners, Ghost Towns and Gold ©2014 Robert George

Well, I grabbed my blues harp and some huckleberry wine
And then I went camping in the Colorado pines
And my lonesome harp was riding on the evening breeze
When a stranger walked out from the softly whisp’ring trees
And he wore a leather eye patch and some tattered gloves
Asked if I could spare an hour for a story of

Miners, ghost towns and gold
And a secret that this forest holds
It’s a part of local history
Some say ev’ry mountain has a mystery
Of miners, ghost towns and gold

The he tipped my jug and wiped his crooked mouth and smiled
Told me if I said “yes” he would make it worth my while
He was like a magnet for the cold light of the moon
As he led me to a ghost town with a burned saloon
Inside was an old piano near some empty kegs
And a skeleton that had lost half of its left leg

O it’s miners, ghost towns and gold
And a secret that this forest holds
It’s a part of local history
Some say ev’ry mountain has a mystery
Of miners, ghost towns and gold

He said legend has it that she used to play for gin
And her barrelhouse piano used to bring the miners in
Lost her leg below the knee when she was only nine
Stepped into a grizzly trap while pickin’ columbine
One old miner used to duet with her in that bar
Sing and play harmonica or back her on guitar

And then when that gold mine caved
It became a cold, dark grave
For the poor souls who were trapped within
Four months on that bar burned down
People said she died without a sound
Drunk on either lonely tears or gin

Then that stranger led me down a pathway through some pines
To a starlit hillside and a haunted caved in mine
With a tear he said that he’d make me a wealthy man
If I’d trust his word and place my blues harp in his hand
If I spared some sweat and rolled those stubborn rocks away
I would find a treasure worth those miners’ dyin’ day

Though I might be bein’ used
What was there to lose
So I handed over my old harp
Started sizin’ up those rocks
Looked around and I was shocked
Cos he’d vanished in the dark

Well, I bruised my shoulders movin’ boulders till the mornin’ light
Then I just stared…I was unprepared when I stepped inside
I saw rows of dusty canvas pouches stacked ten high
Skull and bones with work gloves and a patch on its left eye
So I grabbed a pile and slipped away among the trees
While piano and an old harp followed on the breeze

O it’s miners, ghost towns and gold
And a secret that this forest holds
It’s a part of local history
Some say ev’ry mountain has a mystery
Of miners, ghost towns and gold