Well, I was born a coal miner's daughter.
In a cabin on a hill in Butcher Holler.
We were poor, but we had love.
That's the one thing that daddy made sure of.
He shoveled coal to make a poor man's dollar.

My daddy worked all night in the Vanleer coal mines,
All day long in the field a-hoin' corn.
Mommy rocked the babies at night
And read the Bible by the coal oil light.
Everything would start all over come break of morn.

Daddy loved and raised eight kids on a miner's pay.
Mommy scrubbed our clothes on a washboard every day.
Why I've seen her fingers bleed!
To complain there was no need..
She'd smile in Mommy's understanding way.

In the summertime we didn't have shoes to wear,
But in the wintertime, we'd all get a brand new pair
From a mail order catalog,
Money made from sellin' a hog.
Daddy always managed to get the money somewhere.

Yeah, I'm proud to be a coal miner's daughter.
I remember well, the well where I drew water.
The work we done was hard.
At night we'd sleep 'cause we were tired.
I never thought of ever leaving Butcher Holler.

Well a lot of things have changed since way back then.
And it's so good to be back home again.
Not much left but the floor,
Nothing lives here anymore.
Except the mem'ries of a coal miner's daughter.

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