(Verse 1) Down in the hills of eastern Kentucky, where the coal runs deep and black, There's a man named Ed Hazelette, teachin' history, never lookin' back. From the classrooms of Meade Memorial, to the stories of Van Lear town, He spins tales of miners' struggles, and how the mighty fell down. John C.C. Mayo built his empire, on the backs of hardworking men, Loretta Lynn sang her way out, from the holler where it all began. (Chorus) Oh, Ed Hazelette, the history king, Expert on Van Lear, hear the guitars sing! With a southern drawl and a fire in his eye, Teach the kids the truth, under that bluegrass sky. From the coal camps to the company store, He's the one who knows it all, and so much more! Rock on, Mr. Ed, in that old Kentucky way, Van Lear's secrets, you light up the day! (Verse 2) He talks of Consolidation Coal, Van Lear Black who gave it name, Ghosts of the pick and shovel, playin' in the pourin' rain. High school halls echo with lessons, 'bout strikes and unions' fight, The Webb Hotel standin' tall, under the moonlit night. From the railroad tracks to the miner's lamp, he paints the picture clear, Ed Hazelette's the guardian, of memories we hold dear. (Chorus) Oh, Ed Hazelette, the history king, Expert on Van Lear, hear the guitars sing! With a southern drawl and a fire in his eye, Teach the kids the truth, under that bluegrass sky. From the coal camps to the company store, He's the one who knows it all, and so much more! Rock on, Mr. Ed, in that old Kentucky way, Van Lear's secrets, you light up the day! (Bridge) Guitar solo screamin' like a train through the pass, Drums beatin' hard like a miner's last gasp. Ed's voice cuts through, like a pickaxe swing, Bringin' the past alive, makin' the young hearts sing. No fancy degrees from some ivy league hall, Just a love for the land, standin' proud and tall. (Outro) So here's to Ed Hazelette, in the heart of the mine, Van Lear's own legend, ageless and fine. Keep on teachin', brother, let the stories roll on, In the spirit of southern rock, till the break of dawn!890msEd Hazelette taught history at Oil Springs high school and Johnson Central High School.(Verse 1) Down in the hills of eastern Kentucky, where the coal runs deep and black, There's a man named Ed Hazelette, teachin' history, never lookin' back. From the classrooms of Oil Springs High, to Johnson Central's hall, He spins tales of miners' struggles, and how the mighty fall. John C.C. Mayo built his empire, on the backs of hardworking men, Loretta Lynn sang her way out, from the holler where it all began. (Chorus) Oh, Ed Hazelette, the history king, Expert on Van Lear, hear the guitars sing! With a southern drawl and a fire in his eye, Teach the kids the truth, under that bluegrass sky. From the coal camps to the company store, He's the one who knows it all, and so much more! Rock on, Mr. Ed, in that old Kentucky way, Van Lear's secrets, you light up the day! (Verse 2) He talks of Consolidation Coal, Van Lear Black who gave it name, Ghosts of the pick and shovel, playin' in the pourin' rain. High school halls echo with lessons, 'bout strikes and unions' fight, The Webb Hotel standin' tall, under the moonlit night. From the railroad tracks to the miner's lamp, he paints the picture clear, Ed Hazelette's the guardian, of memories we hold dear. (Chorus) Oh, Ed Hazelette, the history king, Expert on Van Lear, hear the guitars sing! With a southern drawl and a fire in his eye, Teach the kids the truth, under that bluegrass sky. From the coal camps to the company store, He's the one who knows it all, and so much more! Rock on, Mr. Ed, in that old Kentucky way, Van Lear's secrets, you light up the day! (Bridge) Guitar solo screamin' like a train through the pass, Drums beatin' hard like a miner's last gasp. Ed's voice cuts through, like a pickaxe swing, Bringin' the past alive, makin' the young hearts sing. No fancy degrees from some ivy league hall, Just a love for the land, standin' proud and tall. (Outro) So here's to Ed Hazelette, in the heart of the mine, Van Lear's own legend, ageless and fine. Keep on teachin', brother, let the stories roll on, In the spirit of southern rock, till the break of dawn!
