Again, a Tom Russell classic I'm doing off the top of my head. What really
drives this tune is the simple electric guitar lick that recurrs through the
song. It's got a real eerie feel to it, you can almost feel like you've been
laid off your job.
Capo on the 2nd fret and play in G. If you're playing the electric lick, do
not capo and play in A.
Have fun! - Ken
[(G)] [(Em)]
(G)Homestead, Pennsylvania. The (D)home of U.S. (G)Steel
The men down at the Homestead works, are (D)sharing one last (G)meal
(C)saurkraut and keel(G)basa, (C)a dozen beers or (G)more
(C)a hundred years of (Bm)pouring slab, they're (Am)closin' down the (D)door
This mill won't run no (G)more.(Em)
There's (G)silence in the valley, and (D)silence in the (G)streets
Silence every night here, under(D)neath these cold white (G)sheets
Where my (C)wife looks out the (G)window, with a (C)long and lonely (G)stare
She says "You (C)kill yourself for (Bm)30 years, and (am)no one seems to (D)care"
(chorus)
You made their (C)railroad rails and (G)bridges
You (C)ran the driving (G)wheel
The (C)towers of their (G)Empire State
Are (D)lined with Homestead (G)steel
The (C)Manongaheela (G)valley, no (C)longer hears the (G)roar
There's (C)cottonwood and (Bm)sumack weed, (Am)inside the slab mill (D)door
This mill won't run no (G)more (Em)
(same as second verse and chorus)
So me, I'll sit in Hess' pub, and drink my life away
God bless the second mortgage, and the unemployment pay
And my ex-boss Mr. Goodwin, he keeps shaking my one good hand
He say's "Son, it's men like you and me, who built the promised land,
We make their railroad rails and bridges. We ran their driving wheel,
and the towers of their Empire state, are lined with Homestead steel."
The Manongaheela valley, no longer hears the roar.
There's cottonwood, and sumack weed, inside the slab mill door.
This mill won't run no more.
drives this tune is the simple electric guitar lick that recurrs through the
song. It's got a real eerie feel to it, you can almost feel like you've been
laid off your job.
Capo on the 2nd fret and play in G. If you're playing the electric lick, do
not capo and play in A.
Have fun! - Ken
[(G)] [(Em)]
(G)Homestead, Pennsylvania. The (D)home of U.S. (G)Steel
The men down at the Homestead works, are (D)sharing one last (G)meal
(C)saurkraut and keel(G)basa, (C)a dozen beers or (G)more
(C)a hundred years of (Bm)pouring slab, they're (Am)closin' down the (D)door
This mill won't run no (G)more.(Em)
There's (G)silence in the valley, and (D)silence in the (G)streets
Silence every night here, under(D)neath these cold white (G)sheets
Where my (C)wife looks out the (G)window, with a (C)long and lonely (G)stare
She says "You (C)kill yourself for (Bm)30 years, and (am)no one seems to (D)care"
(chorus)
You made their (C)railroad rails and (G)bridges
You (C)ran the driving (G)wheel
The (C)towers of their (G)Empire State
Are (D)lined with Homestead (G)steel
The (C)Manongaheela (G)valley, no (C)longer hears the (G)roar
There's (C)cottonwood and (Bm)sumack weed, (Am)inside the slab mill (D)door
This mill won't run no (G)more (Em)
(same as second verse and chorus)
So me, I'll sit in Hess' pub, and drink my life away
God bless the second mortgage, and the unemployment pay
And my ex-boss Mr. Goodwin, he keeps shaking my one good hand
He say's "Son, it's men like you and me, who built the promised land,
We make their railroad rails and bridges. We ran their driving wheel,
and the towers of their Empire state, are lined with Homestead steel."
The Manongaheela valley, no longer hears the roar.
There's cottonwood, and sumack weed, inside the slab mill door.
This mill won't run no more.
