I like to spend time on the tracks, looking for railroad artifacts
Its the things that don't move out of the way
That I come back to find the next day
And there once was this Hobo from Hoboken
If he was anything; it wasn't soft spoken
He said the track ain't no place for no kids
He told me move on, so I did
But at night the snakes like to steal
That last bit of heat from the steel
So at dusk I had to return, because this is the way that I learn
Oh look if it ain't Natty Gann, come back to my railroad again
I said, you ain't that funny old man, and yes, I came back cuz I can
And you think I don't know Natty Gann, it just so happens that I'm a big fan
But Hobos don't ride rails no more, because the trains today move too fast
And your little legs, they won't last, you'd just be chasing your past
Hoboken stood up from his chair, and said, I still love the sounds that she makes
The whistle I hear from afar, and the screeching that comes from the brakes
So maybe I had been a bit harsh, because Hoboken was anything but fake
So as we walked I learned the old ways, and he got to learn about snakes
Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke