The Empire sits on the edge of a hill Born out of a gypsum mine Held at once 300 souls And none of them were mine Now they're just ghosts in the street Wandering a land that sleeps Once it was a lively place Now just tumbleweeds The houses they are silent Quiet as thieves Now they're just ghosts in the street Wandering a land that sleeps Oh, the miners calloused hands The women who planted the seed on the land Empire met its end Once you're gone you cannot go back The locks they have all froze The lid upon the coffin Now it has been closed Now they're just ghosts in the street Wandering a land that sleeps Oh the men who build the Empire Up from the ground Missed the cracks in the foundation One blow and it all falls down Now they're just ghosts in the street Wandering a land that sleeps Oh, the miners calloused hands The women who planted the seed on the land Empire met its end O, the miners calloused hands The women who planted the seed on the land Empire met its end Oh the Empire met its end Oh, the Empire Met its end