Last night as I lay in the depth of my sleep
I had an unsettling dream
Of cinder and fear and a river of tears
I fell through the smoke and and when I awoke
My thoughts with my memories filled
And I’ll speak and I’ll sing of that terrible spring
And the fall of the old Sartell Mill

It was late into May, on memorial day
The compressors were running too fast
And with three machines down the third one spun round
Parched for water, she never would last
She’s getting too hot, boys, you must turn her off
Fix the pipes, let her cool down her hide
But with no time to wait they turned her too late
And the fire shot red from her side

It was in those few moments of fear and alarm
And the gas in the pipes ‘gan to screech
John Maus took a stand with a sprayer in hand, pouring foam in the fiery breach
But bad fortune proclaimed all his efforts in vain, the fire just bolstered and grew
But the heat sealed his doom when the sparks took the fumes
There was nothing a person could do

The blast shook the streets and the flames licked the sky
And the paper rained over the town
The column of smoke rose higher and higher
Was seen by the counties around
And the sirens and bells made a funeral knell
Where the engine stood over the shore
And in cinder and smoke this epitaph wrote
There’s no mill in Sartell anymore

I can see the new workmen, they’re taking her down
As I stand by the riverbank ice
They junk her machines and they tear down her walls
To be salvaged at scrap metal price
Though she stood on the shore for a century or more
Now they’re tearing her down by the day
And two hundred fifty souls are fresh on the dole
And one’s gone and passed on away

So may God cast his love on the soul of John Maus
From the town of Albany,
For he died trying to save the workers beside him
And feeding his family
For his children and wife he gave up his life
And so we remember him still
And we’ve laid him to rest with the bravest and best
Far from the old Sartell mill.