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Donora

It’s a picture in the mind’s eye of a girl now a doctor;
a steel mill ‘neath a yellow sky behind a green house and grandmother.
And grandma tells the story of the days with the weather;
a plume rose above the mill and the smoke ran like water.
ahh...  o Donora

A fog choked the town from the furnace to the hills.
They couldn’t see to drive but they did their job and worked the mills.
And 20 people died before the rain swept the fog away.
They heaved a sigh of relief and the sky turned back to yellow gray.
ahh...  o Donora

Now there’s a rumor in the mill, a rumor in the mill,
a rumor in the mill that my wife can’t conceive.
There’s a rumor in the mill, a rumor in the mill,
a rumor in the mill that we dare not breathe.

By the time the girl was older strikes had closed the steel mill down;
the town had grown sleepy and the river turned from green to brown.
But Donora’s legacy’d been passed down to her sons and daughters.
How many hearts were broken when the smoke ran like water?
ahh...  o Donora

Now there’s a rumor in the mill, a rumor in the mill,
a rumor in the mill that my wife can’t conceive.
There’s a rumor in the mill, a rumor in the mill,
a rumor in the mill that we dare not breathe.

That girl will paint a picture not visible to the eye;
she will draw lines between and color in the why.
Now we can paint a picture not visible to the eye;
we can draw lines between and color in the why,
why...  why Donora.