I went for a walk in my old downtown. To the top of the hill and I turned around. Train yard's not what it used to be. The station's still standing by the factories.
Khaki & corduroy, leather jackets on the boys. Denim with a worn out place on the pocket. Open faces with knowing looks. Your heavy satchel full of books.
Come all you people my story to hear. What happened to me in June of last year. Oh, its poor Ellen Smith, how was she found?. Shot through the heart, lying dead on the ground.
I went for a walk in my old downtown. To the top of the hill and I turned around. Train yard's not what it used to be. The station's still standing by the factories.
Khaki & corduroy, leather jackets on the boys. Denim with a worn out place on the pocket. Open faces with knowing looks. Your heavy satchel full of books.
Your mama wasnt one to mess around with. Had a fleet of cars and all those flashy clothes. Taught you the discipline of doing what she told. Kept her fist around the money tightly closed.