Skeletons Row - Curtis B. Swanson

 (In reference to the shuddered mills of Youngstown/Warren, Ohio)

 

This pub was better when you could smoke inside.

It’s too hard to rub elbows with a guy out in the rain.

In this place - men painted the walls with soot

Waxed the floors with sweat...

A Scrapper could punch the time clock with a shot

You know, just enough to erase the workday.

 

Here – Forty years ago

When a man “bellied” up to the bar

He had life in his eyes - family in his veins.

Dead beats, sobbing Joe’s and the homeless 

Replace the hard earned dollar of yesterday

And it’s no more than a cruel joke.

 

Shit man, I’d fire up those ovens and paint the sky orange again

If I knew it would put bread on the table

I’d stoke the furnaces of Hell with a blind eye turned to God

Instead of watching this place turn to rust

Heaven – sorry Lord, it ain’t hot enough for me.

 

Here - we spent a lifetime covered in sweat

Here - we laid the foundation for America

Here - we paid the price for standing up for our rights

And I’d dance a jig with the Devil to bring back the mills again.

 

Do you remember when the Mahoning ran hot - the color of mud?

Of course you don’t.

But that’s when we had a job - man

When I could light up in this pub

And cuss at the fuck next to me.

 

You think we won World War II?

Brother-

Think again.

Brother-

Foreign steel and send the work overseas

And I ask you this- 

Are your pockets full?

Is the family fed?

 

Do you remember when the Mahoning ran hot?

Yes – I’m sure you do.

But now it’s clean

And you’re sad that you drank from it

‘Cause it cost you your job

And you’re hungry for more than meat…

Goddamn you wish you could smoke in this pub.

 

But you can’t-

The pubs no longer here

They tore that one down long ago.

With a token hardhat nailed upon the wall

A lone symbol of modern day ignorance…

I was here when she screamed

My shadow stuck to the floor

And only I – showed up at her wake.

 

I’d leave here if I could, man, you know that…

But I won’t

I’ll rust away with the mills till my time dutifully come

And join the sweet devil for a drink of true molten blood.

 

‘Cause I hear down in Hell…

You can smoke in those pubs…

And Lucifer pays time and a half.