I don't know what's good for me, I'm mining on Gatesburg Ridge

Digging iron until my hands bleed, for fifteen cents a day

Hey there mama it's 5am, I can't sleep I've got the Gatesburg Blues again

The corn has come down, the ground has froze

and the wind keeps whipping through my worn out clothes

The tax man came and he said to me, you owe me from old 33

He made threats so my woman ran, and tonight I've got nothing to eat

So I walked up on that ridge, to fire my old pot still

Fill my belly with 180 proof, to warm my soul and feet