October fifteen 1867
The tree were ablaze on the tops of the hills
We were hired to dig deep into the stone mountain
So goods could be brought from further west still

There were many ways to die in the Hoosac Tunnel
By the water soaked rock, by the black powder in the seams
Now what I would give for a minute of daylight
Me and my boys, we are not going to live

We fell down the shaft after the explosion
And when we hot bottom there was no air to breathe
Tending our wounds, and clung to the pieces
In the cold water we gathered debris

We sat in the rift of our own crude making
And called up for mercy but help couldn’t hear
I’m six hundred feet down this Hoosac Mountain
I’ll not see my home nor the snowfall this year

Goodbye to my love, goodbye my sweet darlin’
Goodbye my faithful now don’t shed a tear
Cause when the train runs through this cursed tunnel
A whistle will blow and call to you dear

Cause when the train runs through this cursed tunnel
A whistle will blow and call to you…

© Dana Robinson, Threshold Music, Ashfield, MA 1996