Heard today they are closing the steel mill where I once
worked. Been gone 30 years, the news conjures a small
hurt. Hard hats and steel toe boots, for your safety and
wellbeing. Cancer hazard signs, say no eating, no smoking,
but no warnings, no nothin’ about breathing.
(C) I’m just an old blue collar shirt, rolled around in all
the dirt. Not knowin if I’d get cleaned, even one, one more
time, and somehow come out a little worn, but washed
on the other side.
Kid’s playin ball, in the shadow of smokestacks that own the
sky, just to grow up and work in the place ambition goes
to die. Athletes and actors, doctors and lawyers too, and
everything in between, a young boy would ever choose to
do. Al in line to punch the time clock, every day at three, on
the other side of the door, daydreams fade into reality.
(C) I’m just an old blue collar shirt, rolled around in all the dirt. Not knowin if
I’d get cleaned, even one, one more time, and somehow come out a little
worn, but washed on the other side.
Now the mill is no more, just another rust belt eyesore, but the sights, sounds
a n d smells will remain with m e evermore.
(C) I’m just an old blue collar shirt, rolled around in all the dirt. Not knowin if
I’d get cleaned, even one, one more time and amazingly come out a little worn
but washed on the other side