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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 the foundries in Homestead

I worked beside a guy named Grzbowski
He taught me how to keep safe
He said, "there's many a man who's lost the fingers from their hands"
You can wind up crippled or dead in Homestead

And the steel glowed in white hot chambers
The furnace spit fire and smoke
And the sunlight came through the cracks in the roof
And 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 tearing those old mills down
'Til there was 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

(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead
(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead
(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead
(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead
(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead
(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead
(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead
(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead
(Na-na-na na-na-na na)
I'm still living in Homestead

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