| She’s a railroad lady, just a little bit shady
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| Spending her days on the train
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| She’s a semi good-looker, but the fast rails they took 'er
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| Now she’s tryin', just tryin' to get home again
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| South Station in Boston to the freight yards of Austin
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| From the Florida sunshine to the New Orleans rain
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| Now that the rail packs have taken the best tracks
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| She’s tryin', just tryin' to get home again
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| Once a highballin' loner, he thought he could own 'er
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| Bought her a fur coat and a big diamond ring
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| She hocked them for cold cash, left town on the Wabash
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| Never thinkin', never thinkin' of home 'way back then
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| But the rails are now rusty, the dining cars dusty
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| The gold plated watches have taken their toll
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| The railroads are dying, and the lady, she’s crying
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| On a bus to Kentucky, and home that’s her goal
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| She’s a railroad lady, just a little bit shady
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| Spending her life on the trains
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| Once a Pullman car traveler, now the brakeman won’t have her
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| She’s tryin', just tryin' to get home again
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| Yeah, on a bus to Kentucky, then home — once — again |