Train Yard
Liz Foster, Ray Wylie Hubbard
Kiss me on the mouth sweet gal
As if we was fixing to die
And I'll follow you down
Till the Mississippi runs dry
There's a room down at the train yard
The wall is gunmetal gray
The door ain't never locked
Come sun down, let's slip away
I'll fetch us a blanket
You brink a box of crackerjacks
We'll make a pallet on the floor
And lay a penny on the railroad tracks
When the train comes flying past
The walls shake and the floorboard squeaks
You be sitting on top of the world girl
Like the Mississippi Sheiks
Now if somebody ever asks you
If you got any
You just smile and lick your lips
And show em that old flat penny