DESCRIPTION:
This song dates back to at least 1923, when the first field recording seems to have been made, though Pete Seeger believed it went back to 1850. It was originally about a blacksmith who lost his eyesight at a time when there were no social safety nets for victims of industrial accidents. It may have been based on an earlier song called "The Rebel Soldier".

It has been recorded by Joe Hickerson, Stephen Stills, Hoyt Axton and Pete Seeger among others.

Eric Andersen was one of several singer-songwriters invited by the Highlander Folk Center to go to the Appalachian mountains to learn about the plight of the miners and to write songs about the situation. Tom Paxton was another who attended and wrote a song.

Andersen rewrote the traditional song of the blind fiddler as a song about the victim of a mining accident. It was recorded on his 1966 album "Bout Changes and Things."

This song was suggested by Tony Oppegard.

Lyrics and chords:
Am ....................................................... Dm .......... Am
I lost my eyes in the Harlan pits in the year of fifty-six
..................................... Em ......... Am ................. Em
While pulling a faulty drill chain that was out of fix
... Am ......................... Em ............ C ....... Am ........... Em
It bounded from the wheel and there it sealed my doom
.. Am ............................. Dm ............. Am
I am a blind fiddler and far from my home.

I went up into Louisville to visit Dr. Lane
He operated on one of my eyes; still it is the same
The Blue Ridge can't support me; it just ain't got the room.
Would a wealthy colliery owner like to hear a fiddler's tune?

With politics and threatening tones the owners can control
And the unions have all left us a long, long time ago
Machinery lying scattered, no drill sounds in the mine
For all the good a collier is, he might as well be blind.

Was a time I worked a long fourteen for a short eight bucks a day
You're lucky if you're mining, that's what the owners say
And if you've got complaining, you'd better aim to keep it low
How come they took my food stamps, does anybody know?

My father was a miner's son, a miner still is he
But his eyes have took a fever, and there's a shaking in his knee
The holes are closing rapidly, he cannot understand
Machine’s got a bigger arm than him or any other man.

Plastic for the windows, cardboard for the door
The baby's mouth is twisting, it'll twist a little more
“They need welders in Chicago!” falls hollow to the floor.
How many miners made that trip a thousand times or more.

The lights are burning bright, there's laughter in the town
But the streets are dark and empty, there ain't a miner to be found.
They're in some lonesome hollow, where the sun refuse to shine
And the baby's screams are muffled in the sweetness of the wine.

With a wife and four young children depending now on me
Whatever can I serve them with? My God, I cannot see.
Through the Blue Ridge Mountains I am content to roam
I am a blind fiddler, and far from my home
Yes, I am a blind fiddler, and far from my home.


You can see a playlist of my mining songs here: http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=PLCF909DA14CE415DF

Lyrics and chords of many of my songs are no longer available, as my website has expired. I am currently posting lyrics to the information panels on all my videos and those that are too long to post in full will be found here: https://raymondsfolkpage.wordpress.com