Hobo

There's a freight train runnin' through the depths of my soul
I can't erase it and I can't make it roll
The whistle's blowing, the fire's burnin' coal
I'm halfway between Texas and a rocket to the moon
I'm beat, broke and busted, headed north in a worn out pair of shoes

I'm a hobo and a pipe
Filling lungs with air from home
A place I've never known

I'm conducting sorrow through my six strings
Spinning lies and of fame and Rome
I'm building bigger words, beneath my vest
Skirting delusions of regret and truth
I'm held within these prison walls while beating on my chest
Like a fiddler on the roof just searching for some food