It
Hazel Dickens Lyrics


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She's lost a lot of herself that time cannot replace
Bits and pieces of herself gone without a trace
She's been holding on to everything that happened to be there
She's all used up and forgotten and scatterd eveerywhere

She's not an angel, so don't look for her wings
She's a hurtin woman who lives the song she sings
She learned them all the hard way on the streets all alone
That's why it's hard to tell the singer from the song

One by one her young years were gone before she knew
Wasted on some loser who was only walking through
Each time her bruised and lonely heart tried to break the fall
Rather put the pieces of the life on the wall

She's not an angel, so don't look for her wings
She's a hurtin woman who lives the song she sings




She learned them all the hard way on the streets all alone
That's why it's hard to tell the singer from the song

Overall Meaning

Hazel Dickens's song "It's Hard to Tell the Singer From the Song" is a poignant and emotional ballad about a woman who has experienced significant loss and trauma in her life, causing her to lose parts of herself that cannot be replaced. Despite this, the woman finds solace in the music she creates and sings, using it as a way to express the pain, hurt, and loneliness she feels. The lyrics suggest that the woman learned her music the hard way, through harsh life experiences and living on the streets, making it difficult to distinguish between the person and the music.


The verses reveal the woman's difficult journey, focusing on the challenges she has faced and the strength she has gained from them. The lyrics also evoke a sense of sympathy and empathy towards the woman, calling on listeners to recognize the pain she carries and reflect on the significance of the music she creates. The chorus, "She's not an angel, so don't look for her wings, She's a hurtin woman who lives the song she sings, She learned them all the hard way on the streets all alone, That's why it's hard to tell the singer from the song", adds to the theme of confusion between the person and the art, highlighting the reality that the woman's music reflects her life experiences and personal struggles.


Line by Line Meaning

She's lost a lot of herself that time cannot replace
She has experienced losses and changes that cannot be undone or recovered.


Bits and pieces of herself gone without a trace
She has lost parts of herself that cannot be identified or found.


She's been holding on to everything that happened to be there
She has been clinging to whatever was available to help her survive.


She's all used up and forgotten and scattered everywhere
She is depleted, abandoned, and scattered all over the place.


She's not an angel, so don't look for her wings
She is not perfect, so do not expect her to have wings.


She's a hurtin woman who lives the song she sings
She is a woman in pain who expresses her emotions through her music.


She learned them all the hard way on the streets all alone
She learnt her life lessons through difficult experiences on the lonely streets.


That's why it's hard to tell the singer from the song
Her songs reflect her personal experiences so much that it's difficult to distinguish between her and her music.


One by one her young years were gone before she knew
Her youthful years passed away quickly without her realising it.


Wasted on some loser who was only walking through
Her time and energy were spent on someone who didn't value her or stay for long.


Each time her bruised and lonely heart tried to break the fall
Whenever her heart was hurt and alone, she tried to protect herself from further damage.


Rather put the pieces of the life on the wall
She decided to display her broken pieces instead of trying to hide them away.




Lyrics © THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY
Written by: HAZEL DICKENS

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comment from YouTube:

John K

I love West Virginia. But I love Jesus MUCH MORE!


Pass It On

When I hitch hiked cross country I was fortunate to pass through West Virginia. West Virginia is beautiful to look upon. The rolling hills are covered with lush green trees. It’s majesty in scenery is second only to Idaho, but a close second. They tell me in winter the hills are barren and ugly because of the strip mining.
The people, however, are the nicest I’ve found anywhere. They are friendly and kind, even to strangers like me who talk funny. The West Virginia accent is thick like pea soup. It’s is half way between talking and singing.
I walked a great deal in West Virginia. Up and down hills the road curved with twists and bends. I walked through towns which took all of two minutes to traverse. There was no other place where drivers were quicker to pick up a stranger like me.
It was a hot June day that found me with my thumb extended. A pick up truck slowed down and pulled over a short distance ahead of me. I clutched my orange back pack and trotted to the vehicle. I jumped in the back happy. Hitch hiking is an exhilarating experience. I compare it to fishing. You never know when you’ll get a bite.
The truck speeded onto the highway. Sitting in the front was an old woman with two young boys. The women slid open a small glass window in the back of the cab enabling us to talk. “Hello,” she said.
“Hello and God bless you,” I replied.
Soon the conversation flowed back and forth.
“Where are you going?”
“Alaska, God willing.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from New Jersey which is close to New York City.”
We continued to talk as we drove. Soon the woman pulled the truck over. “John,” she said, “now that we know you are no threat to us, you can ride with us in the front.”
I promptly jumped out of the back and entered the cab. I sat in the middle with the woman on my left and the two boys on the right.
We drove a little while longer when the tone of conversation got serious. “You see these two boys,” she said motioning with her hand towards the youngsters. “Their parents just died. My husband and I took them in but the farm burned down and we’ve got nothing left. Then my husband died too.”
The news hit me like a wave pounding on a beach. I sat silently stunned.
Then the woman pulled into a Roy Rogers. She went to the drive through and ordered three sandwiches. When she picked them up from the window she handed one to each boy and the last one to me. I was surprised.
“John” she said. (Whenever she spoke my name it was as if she was talking to an intimate friend.) “I don’t have enough money to buy more. I know you don’t have much money. But I want you to eat. So I gave you my sandwich.”
I ate the sandwich with a thankful heart as we drove on. Soon she pulled over to an exit. “Boys, do you want to take John further?” she asked.
“Yes!!!” the two boys cried excited with glee.
“John” said the woman once more. “This is our exit but it’s not a good place to hitch another ride. So we’re gonna take you to the next one. You’ll be able to get a ride there easier.”
So we drove on. In West Virginia exits are not like they are in New Jersey. In Jersey there are exits every couple of miles. This kind woman drove me over twenty miles to the next exit.
I exited from the truck and by the driver’s side window to say good bye to this generous soul.
But the woman who had already provided me with so much gave once more.
“John,” she said. “I know you’re searching for the words to thank me. Just take the love I’ve given you and pass it on. If you do one day, it’ll go all around the world and one day it will return to you.”
Then she drove me away. I can’t remember her name but I’ll never forget her.



All comments from YouTube:

Franklin Brown

I'm from Man WV in Logan County (Buffalo Creek). My father, both grandfathers, and great grandfathers all had black lung. I was a strip miner before I moved to Florida in 91 so luckily I was spared this disease. it contributed to all their deaths. And that's no way to go for good men like them (or frankly anyone) to go. I saw the flood in February of 72 that was caused by Pittston coal company. 125 people died that morning on Buffalo Creek. Sad sad day.

Jason Runyon

I am from Mingo County. The Ragland area. I watched my Dad and all my kin work like a dog and now they bout all have black lung. I left for Tennessee in '95. The coal mines care nothing about the miners or the area. So sad!!

dierdriu

The mining companies have taken so many good people in so many horrific ways. Black lung is increasing by leaps and bounds once again, affecting younger men and bringing them down faster. The coal operators destroy the land and bleed dry miners, then leave the graves and the sludge behind when they move on to greener pastures.

Brian Cheek

A good woman is gone. Miss her voice so much.

Billy Brent Malkus

Ralph Stanley just passed today. Got me thinking of Hazel. Two kindred souls. Bless them in Heaven.

Carol Cripps

Billy Brent Malkus Obviously, there is some sweet music to be heard up there. You could spend eternity going from session to session, and never tire of it

roastbeefdinner

i always cry when i hear this song

Kegan Mahon

I wish Appalshop were streaming. I don't have the money for all those DVDs, and the few programs I've seen on TV have since been replaced with horribly-urban 90s sitcoms.

James Holsinger

WMMT Is Streaming now,Whitesburg KY I believe SIR!!!!

multicaruana

She sure was a great one , one of the earliest pioneers of social protest from Appalachia.

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