Welcome Stranger

Well, it's funny how a fellow gets into things. There I was on the train and we were pulling out a Boston. I was feeling pretty good about the world. Not just because I was leaving Boston.

Always feel good when I'm heading somewhere. Even a whistle stop like Fall Bridge Man. Now, I was feeling mighty sharp, but as I walked into the Pullman's Smoker and sat down... Yo, man. Big pardon?

You happen to be sitting on a package of money. Oh, I'm sorry. Well, in the future you might look where you deposit yourself. Excellent suggestion. Yes, in your G-tower too. I have bear it in mind.

You see an evening paper? No. And I've no desire to read it. And that should end the conversation unless you happen to be the type that you... Young man! What again? Young man, if you don't mind, that's more than you's paper you've got.

This? If you don't mind. Well, you're welcome to any part of it, but it just so happens I'm the lawful owner of this collection of newsprint. You're a mistake and I bought that paper in the station.

No, what section would you like? I'm of a new part of the paper. You may have the back card. Fine. You may have the front card. You do me no favor, young man. It's your paper.

I'm giving it to you. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. What's the matter? This is not a music, huh? It's a trade. I know. My heart is a hobo, loves to roam through fields of clover, hates to have to think things over.

And though it's wrong, I string along, my heart is a hobo, loves to go out, bury picking, hates to hear alarm clocks ticking. It isn't smart, but that's my heart. When hope, surrout at the elbows, and pains are on down at the heels.