We were born in the north country,
the cold country,
where frozen hearts on concrete then thaw in the July heat,
It ain't always bleak,
but like the industry,
the golds and blues give way to grayer hues,
won't you light it up,
rusted blue collar souls pay their dues,
praying for a little truth, a little warmth,
won't you warm me up,
we were born in the north country, the cold country,
where frozen hearts on concrete then thaw in the July heat,
won't you warm me up,
like the crops that sometimes freeze,
I'm asking of you...