|
Here I stand with my own kin |
|
At the end of everything |
|
Finally the dream has gone |
|
I've nothing left to hang upon |
|
I came here with all my friends |
|
Leaving behind the wait of years |
|
Leaving alone in a flood of tears |
|
Out on a prospect that never ends |
|
All the landscape was the mill |
|
Grim as the reaper with a heart like hell |
|
With a river of bodies |
|
Flowing with the bell |
|
We built it all with our own hands |
|
But who could know we built on sand |
|
But now it's barren all too soon |
|
There's no miracle in ruin |
|
We set the flame and it burned so blue |
|
With open eyes |
|
I watched it grow |
|
A sea of palms in an ocean of snow |
|
Hands with the courage to start anew |
|
Here was a home for the lost and scared |
|
Out of the yards and dry docks |
|
The call of the steel that would never stop |
|
There was a refuge for those who dared |
|
In a steeltown |
|
When the heat's on |
|
I went down |
|
And the heat turned on me |
|
Here I stand with my own kin |
|
At the end of everything |
|
Finally the dream has gone |
|
I've nothing left to hang upon |
|
In a steeltown |
|
When the heat's on |
|
I went down |
|
And the heat turned on me |
