you cease to smell the steel plant 
after you've lived there for a while 
smoke is snow is ash are leaves that blow 
through the air aloft 
all our houses dim their sliding 
to the same soot gray style 
and we hang our laundry out on sundays 
when they turn the furnaces off 
 
everybody's daddy works up on the line 
the stienbrenners and the wilczewskis 
have been there the longest time 
everybody's mommy squints into the sun 
sunday afternoon after all the laundry's done 
 
sometimes a distant siren 
can set a dog to barking late at night 
then it dominos on down 
til every dog is joining in 
the first rumours of the layoffs 
sang like a distant siren might 
and we all perked up our ears 
and paced the fence 
of the ensuing din 
 
every night, we were glued to the tv news 
at six o'clock 
cuz it was hard to tell what was real 
and what was talk 
they explained about the cutbacks 
all the earnest frowns 
but what they didn't say was that the plant 
was slowly shutting down 
 
this town is not the kind of place 
that money people go 
they make their jokes up on the tv 
about all the snow 
and they're building condos downriver 
from where the plant had been 
but nobody really lives here 
now that the air is clean 
 
the president assured us 
it was all gonna trickle down 
like it'd be raining so much money 
that we'd be sad to see the sun 
mr. wilczewski's brother had some business 
out in denver 
so they left denver 
and everybody knows they were the lucky ones 
 
you cease to smell the steel plant 
after you'v ebeen here for a while