Oregon Hill

My grandfather's grandfather
laid his gun down
said goodbye to Robert E. Lee
Found his cabin and barn
was burned to the ground
and the fields gone to brambles and weeds.
He moved down to Richmond and
took him a wife
and a job in that iron-working mill
And they had them a son and they
built them a life
in a house up on Oregon Hill

Small wooden houses, run by the yard
for men who walked down to the mill
And smoke filled the air but the river ran wild at the bottom of Oregon Hill

Twenty years later, the paper mill came
That's where his son applied
For the next hundred years it was more of
the same
It was paper or iron till you died

Monday to Saturday, daybreak to night
We slaved for our food and our rent
Come Saturday night, we'd drink and we'd
fight
and come Sunday we'd rest and repent

Iron closed down in my early years
Paper when I was in my prime
And the houses ran down
as the jobs disappeared
and the rain came and washed away the
grime

I learned how to drywall
and walk up on stilts
but most of my friends hit the skids
You know how you watch an old tree
when it wilts
You could see the same thing in their kids

Small wooden houses, run by the yard
they tore down the James River Mill
Now tall buildings rise, and the river it hides
at the bottom of Oregon Hill

Each morning by 8, now the nail guns begin
and I've got all the work I can use
'Cause new people come when the prices fell in, but it's old Hillers paying their dues
There's 6 generations on Oregon Hill
I'm thinking this might be the last
I could stay if I want but I doubt that I will
‘cause the Hill I call home now has passed

Small wooden houses, run by the yard
for men who walked down to the mill
And smoke filled the air
but the river ran wild
at the bottom of Oregon Hill