Song Description

I'm a product of the primarily Irish-Catholic neighborhood of Greys Ferry in Philadelphia (my mom still lives there). While gaining local notoriety as an enclave of white rascism in Philly, Greys Ferry was largely peopled by hard-working, church-going middle class folks, some of whom were my ancestors. This song was inspired by a real place. The sign said "Tom's Cafe" but everyone called it "Steeley's" after the owner, Tom Steele. The bar/cafe sat on the banks of the Schuylkill (pronounced

Lyrics

Tom?s Café

The day that Tom?s Café closed, all the neighbors sighed
Mr. Shannon said: ?Tom?s been dead five years; better he?s not alive.?
His brother ran the place until the neighborhood ran down
Now time was up; he sealed it up and moved away from town

The café sat by railroad tracks and was busy all the time
Serving engineers and brakemen from the Pennsylvania line
Houses sprung up around it; Tom made many friends
When business grew he made a woman?s lounge and kept the front door for men

Chorus:
An old café by railroad tracks and the factory that turned the river black
Stand naked, having hid from wrecking crews
It seems like yesterday when I heard Irish jigs coming from Tom?s café

My grandfather was a friend of Tom?s; he went there many nights
After working at the factory from dawn to twilight
I can see the cinematic Pat O?Brien scene
St. Patrick?s day would have been a sight for the wearing of the green

Their lives were formed before I was born; I only sense remains
I hear slightly broken memories, many joys, every pain
The neighborhood has now declined; the factory?s obsolete
Skeletons of buildings now define Grey?s Ferry Street

Chorus

I walked down the tracks recently and spied the sober scene
Rubble cluttered vacant lots; sidewalks sprouted weeds
A brand new factory burns its waste and sulfur scents the air
Under overpasses of a new highway, a café standing there


©2002 James F. Curley