The Wrong Side of the Track

The Wrong Side of the Track

Grew up in a railroad town, wrong side of the track,

and tho I kinda’ miss it, I ain’t never goin’ back.

West Des Moines or Winnemucca, they’re really all the same,

what side of town you live in, sullies up your name.

My dad he was the Engineer, ‘a runnin’ that ol’ train,

that divided up our little town, ‘a sittin’ on the plain.

And Momma she would sing along, while packin’ his lunch pail,

“Keep your hand upon the throttle, and your eye upon the rail.” *

I watched that train ‘a pullin’ out and wondered where it went,

no ticket to some far off place, my money’s all been spent.

And the tallest thing I ever saw was fillin’ up with grain,

the farmers in their overalls were talkin’ crops and rain.

On a cold and dreary day, I offered up a thumb,

and by the time I got a ride my toes were gettin’ numb.

Then one by one, all my friends were doin’ just the same,

in leavin’ from a railroad town, there really is no shame.

Now nuthin’ in my life since then has ever set me back,

grew up in a railroad town, wrong side of the track.

LDT 5/20

*”Life is Like a Mountain Railroad,” Charles Tillman (music) and M.E. Abbey (lyrics). 1890.

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