(Big John Big John)
Every mornin' at the mine you could
I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom
When the morning sun streaks across my room
Lord I'm wakened
I look out on the grave of New York City
And
Ridin' on the City of New Orleans Illinois Central Monday
Coming on strong coming on strong
I can feel the heartaches
It's knowing that your door is always open and your
It's true you have me twisted around your finger it
Two broken hearts lonely looking like houses where nobody lives
Two
And you're much more than a lover to me I
Things I learned in hobo jungle were things they never
Sometimes too much fuel can smother up the fire
And sometimes
I didn't see no sense in me just sittin' here
She would meet me in the morning on my way
Let me be a little kinder let me be a
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