Pre>c am   Many's the hour I've lain by my window   C am   And thought of the people who carried the burden   C am   Who marched in the strange fields in search of an answers   C am g   And ended their journeys an unwilling hero      Am em am g   Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why   Em am   And a toast of the wine at the end of the line   D7 g   And a toll of the bell for the next one to die      Back in the coal fields of old harlan county   Some talked of the union, some talked of good wages   And they lined them up in the dark of the forests   And shot them down without asking no questions      Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why   And a toast of the wine to the end of the line   And a toll of the bell for the next one to die      And over the ocean, to the red spanish soil   Came the lincoln brigade with their dreams   But they fell in the fire of germany's bombing   And they fell 'cause no one would hear their sad warning      Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why   And a toast of the wine at the end of the line   And a toll of the bell for the next one to die      In old alabama, in old mississippi   Two states of the union so often found guilty   They came on the busses, they came on the marches   And they lay in the jails or they fell by the highway      Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why   And a toast of the wine at the end of the line   And a toll of the bell for the next one to die      The state it was texas, the town it was dallas   In the flash of a rifle a life was soon over   And nobody thought of the past million murders   And the long list of irony(? ) had found a new champion      Here's a song to those who are gone with never a reason why   And a toast of the wine at the end of the line   And a toll of the bell for the next one to die      /pre>