I was in Springfield Missouri
When I got on a train.
It was 1954
In a cold, pouring rain.
No one was there to wave goodbye.
No one said, “Adios.”
No soul-mate there to miss me.
Had no one that was close.
Found a seat in the dinner.
Got some coffee to sip on
As I watched Missouri fly by
Until all of it was gone.
Traveling Springfield to Memphis
On the Frisco Line.
It made me happy.
Made me feel so fine.
I didn’t know what would greet me
When I passed that Memphis sign.
Traveling Springfield to Memphis
On that mighty Frisco Line.
We flew down through Arkansas.
Made those steel wheels whine.
Rust did not have a chance.
Made those steel rails shine.
Cotton was growing on all
Those big flat land farms.
Every place was pretty
With its own special charms.
In West Memphis we crossed over
Rock Island and Mo-Pac rails.
Then crossed the big muddy.
That always thrills me, never fails.
Traveling Springfield to Memphis
On the Frisco Line.
It made me happy.
Made me feel so fine.
I didn’t know what would greet me
When I passed that Memphis sign.
Traveling Springfield to Memphis
On that mighty Frisco Line.
Got off of that train.
Walked up to Beale Street.
Ate barbequed ribs.
The meat was tender and sweet.
Listened to the blues
Late into the night
And then she strolled in.
What a beautiful sight.
I had to go home.
But I’m headed south again.
She said, “Come back to see me,”
And my new life began.
Traveling Springfield to Memphis
On the Frisco Line.
It made me happy.
Made me feel so fine.
I didn’t know what would greet me
When I passed that Memphis sign.
Traveling Springfield to Memphis
On that mighty Frisco Line.
A. L. shipman Jr.
12-5-2011
© 2011 A.L. Shipman, Jr. All Rights Reserved. Watermark template. Powered by Blogger.
No comments:
Post a Comment