Beneath Centralia's Skin
Faust drank at the Bull’s Head Inn
Toasting Morris’ misfortune
And that of natives before him.
His fellows scratched infant diamonds
From beneath his very feet
While Molly Maguires reaped vengeance.
Curses from unlikely sources
Crept into the labyrinth mine
Inventing an inferno.
Its fire rages deep and dark
As aggrieved and unavenged wrongs
Beneath sad Centralia’s skin.