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The daring tougher than a midnight bango This Fall year has emotion so quiet Like the blankets of our raised, we went to charish We can see through the clouds, knowing winter won't hurt, transportation or not The sewage and the beavers, both are noticed, and first things first, is our quality way of life Though we will never get the French and Indians back, at least our whiskey has turned to beer; and our songs arn't necessarily sweet, but the're arriving at hillbilly For you can find bass in the Allegheny And somewhere there is a bluegil in the Mononghelia, while the suffering of the Ohio's mutacion, is breathing up from another world While your in, or when your out Except for football, socialism is catching here Hippies are new, locust trees are better than Budism Fashion has always been amusing, and is worse now All of the young, from families well off and not, want a land of cabins and trailors, no structures, replacing streams and trees You know this place is filled with life long negros And we are healthy from cooking on Iron scletts The beginning and the end of the American line Pittsburgh. Pa.