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When I was a little kid, I had to sit like most kids did,
counting as the train cars passed, waitin’ for the very
last, And Oh to see the old man wave, in his overalls and
his hair all gray, smilin’ in the sun.
Now days it ain’t no use, there’s no caboose.
Can’t understand how they can take the job from a kind
old man, steal the joy from a young child’s heart, just
when it gets to the groovy part. Now days it ain’t no
use, there’s no caboose.

Through fields they rambled, over mountains they crawled,
why they use to go to every town, one and all.

I’d like to take this time to complain about the trains.
I’m complainin’. They use to have the finest chefs,
[- -]
saddle car, a nice place to rest. Windows now are sealed
up tight, a man can’t breathe and he’s got the right. And
what about the tracks they laid, long ago well they all
decayed. A job for every man, new tracks across the land.
I feel the need to say a bit more, instead of building up
for war, I’ve got a few more healthy chores for the
fellas dressed in green. Build us a train run by the sun,
connect the small towns every one. When granny gets to
old to drive, she can read a book and look outside.

Through fields they rambled, over mountains they climbed.
Why they could go to every town, yours and mine. Now days
it ain’t no use there’s no caboose.

Text přidala Nikola131


Musings Of A Creek Dipper

Victoria Williams texty

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