„Nobody knows where that old train goes, those who go, they don’t come back.“

»Follow that dollar for a long way down
Far away from the poorhouse door
Either get to hell or to Hadestown
Ain’t no difference anymore

Hound dog howl and the whistle blow
Train comes a-rollin, clickety-clack
Nobody knows where that old train goes
Those who go they don’t come back

Winter’s nigh and summer’s o’er
I hear that high and lonesome sound
Of my husband coming for
To bring me home to Hadestown

Everybody dresses in clothes so fine
Everybody’s pockets are weighted down
Everybody sipping ambrosia wine
In a goldmine in Hadestown

Everybody hungry, everybody tired
Everybody slaves by the sweat of his brow
The wage is nothing and the work is hard
It’s a graveyard in Hadestown

Every little penny in the wishing well
Every little nickel on the drum
All them shiny little heads and tails
Where do you think they come from?

Mister Hades is a mean old boss
With a silver whistle and a golden scale
An eye for an eye!
And he weighs the cost
A lie for a lie!
And your soul for sale
Sold!
To the king on the chromium throne
Thrown!
To the bottom of a sing-sing cell
Where the little wheel squeal and the big wheel groan
And you better forget about your wishing well

Mr. Hades is a mighty king
Must be making some mighty big deals
Seems like he owns everything
Kind of makes you wonder how it feels

They come from way down Hadestown
Way down under the ground«

Anaïs MitchellWay Down, Hadestown

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