while the apple pie bakes,
all straw hat and suspenders
the amish come together as
an army of ants, raising the barn
at tuesday night little league
i see the proud parents
all bleachered together
shoulders up and pointing
there goes the rv of relatives
headin down to the state fair
passing that bus full of seniors
off to break the casino
would you like me to say i envy
their happy smiles?
is the lie to be advocated?
truth is, i ain't much for people
and their happy birthday sing alongs
or their vociferous chants of
all for one and one for all
i'm just not cut that way
oh, i like most people just fine
one at a time and mostly over there
but handshakes and huggin
is the horse that drives me to tall timber
see, i was born out of time
this i know, and it's my sack to tote
had i been here when i should've
i'd be there! in them clouds, on that clipper,
high and alone in the crows nest
eyein for, yet daring, the stormy weather
I'd be David Thompson in the rockies
swattin bears and skeeters alone
not Jim Bridger, tellin tales to fools
I'd be the one out there, on the
edge of the herd searchin
for the stragglers
and at night, when the others slept
i'd ride into town alone
after the piano player had been shot
when the saloon turns somber
i'll share ya my beans and share ya my poke
but rarely my fire or trail
-just say howdy, and keep ridin on
i'm the ghost, waitin for a train
but only to watch it pass
and this only to remember
i was born before the railroad
and i'll never raise a barn
