I was born in the corn fields of Kentucky I moved north in '73 The war was still going strong so I found a job Rolling steel in a foundry in Homestead I worked beside a guy named Gryzbowski Who taught me how to keep safe He said "there's many a man who lost the fingers from their hands" You could wind up crippled or dead in Homestead And the steel glowed in the white hot chambers The furnace spit fire and smoke And the sunlight came through the cracks in the roof The dust was so thick you could choke I heard all the old stories about the twelve hour shifts in the mill And the union brothers the Pinkertons tried hard to kill Heard about Frick and Carnegie the day the river ran red How the union caved in, in Homestead It was more than a job it was my family I got married, settled down, bought a home And in the bars down the street, in the late summer heat You never had to feel alone I got work tearin' those old mills down Until there's nothing left but the sweat and blood in the ground At night we tuck our little babies in bed We still pray to the red, white and blue in Homestead I'm still livin' in Homestead