My dad used to sing a lot of folk songs until he hacked his hand up with a circular saw. This put a cramp on his guitar playin’ ability. He can still do it, but the nerve endings are dull, so he makes mistakes and gets angry.
My homies and I have been getting into that music thing lately. Thus I’ve been playing guitar again. I was over at my parents’ house tonight; one thing led to another and the guitar came out. Soon after, old songs came tumbling out of our throats – rusty, but still good.
There’s many a man that Ive known in my day
Who lived just to labor his whole life away.
Like a fiend for his dope or a drunkard his wine,
A man will have lust for the lure of the mine.
For its dark as a dungeon and its damp as the dew,
Where the dangers are double, and the pleasures are few,
Where the rain never falls and the sun never shines:
Its dark as a dungeon way down in the mines.
Hot damn it felt good to sing that song again.