Poor Tom

Here's the tale of Tom, who worked the railroads long

His wife would cook his meals, as he would check the wheels

Singing, poor Tom, seventh son

Always knew what's going on

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom

And there ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom

He worked for thirty years, sharing hopes and fears

Dreaming of the day, he could turn and say

Poor Tom, work is done

Lazing out in that noon-day sun

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom

Ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom

His wife was Emmie Mae, and many little games she played

When Tom was out of town, she couldn't keep her dresses down

Poor Tom, seventh son

Always knew what's going on

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom

There ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom

And so it was one day, fate got to Emmie Mae

Tom stood, a gun in his hand, stopped all the running around

Poor Tom, seventh son, got to die for what you've done

All those years of working thrown away

To ease your mind, is that all you can say?

Well, what about that grandson on your knee

And railroad songs Tom would sing to me?

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom

Hey

Keep on truckin'

Keep on truckin'