Here's the Sally Rogers version --

I remember back in '33
We were all down in Tennessee,
Just gettin' by took all your time,
Way down the road.

Word got out in '41
Uncle Sam says get the big job done,
So we hired out at Willow Run,
Way down the road.

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x: Oh, Blow your whistle, up through the pines,
Out across the mountains to the Clinchfield Line,
Blow for better times,
Way down the road.

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We came from the mills and the damn coal mines,
When we started in to working on Henry's line,
Eight hours steady and overtime,
Way down the road.

Folks up North didn't want us around,
So they moved us out on the edge of town,
Salt box houses on a bulldozed ground,
Way down the road.

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Strong backs bending in the welders' light,
Rivet guns pounding on a windy night,
Another rich man's war and a poor man's fight,
Way down the road.

Now it's punch in, punch out, make your time,
Hurry with the turret boys, you're getting behind,
And the bombers roared low in the blacked out skies,
Way down the road.

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Tryin' to pay the rent, tryin' to save a buck,
Patchin' up the tires on a worn out truck,
City folk passin' yellin' "Hey Kentuck,"
Way down the road.

Said we'd move back south when the war geared down,
But your dreams die easy when the check comes round,
And you're caught between the mountains and a factory town,
Way down the road.

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Now the plant's shut down, the gate's all closed,
New cars rustin' in the rain and snow,
Let me sleep where the gum-stick laurel grows,
Way down the road.

Bury me back in Tennessee,
"Lived for a dollar" -- let my tombstone read,
And died unknown in a strange country,
Way down the road.