Joe Grushecky
Homestead
I was born in the corn fields of KentuckyI moved north in '73The war was still going strong so I found a jobRolling steel in a foundry in HomesteadI worked beside a guy named GryzbowskiWho taught me how to keep safeHe said "there's many a man who lost the fingers from their hands"You could wind up crippled or dead in HomesteadAnd the steel glowed in the white hot chambersThe furnace spit fire and smokeAnd the sunlight came through the cracks in the roofThe dust was so thick you could chokeI heard all the old stories about the twelve hour shifts in the millAnd the union brothers the Pinkertons tried hard to killHeard about Frick and Carnegie the day the river ran redHow the union caved in, in HomesteadIt was more than a job it was my familyI got married, settled down, bought a homeAnd in the bars down the street, in the late summer heatYou never had to feel aloneI got work tearin' those old mills downUntil there's nothing left but the sweat and blood in the groundAt night we tuck our little babies in bedWe still pray to the red, white and blue in HomesteadI'm still livin' in Homestead
From Letras Mania