I live in Robbinsville, and get to see more and more of the Camden and Amboy ROW get
paved over or abandoned. (I'm not sure what is more depressing, NOT seeing
rails where they used to be, or to see the existing track overgrown and neglected.)
As a musician, I try to express myself, so here are the lyrics to a song I wrote. Maybe
some day I'll be brave enough to post an mp3 of me performing it.
Let me know if this touches a chord in anyone...
Rust and Weeds ©2009 Walt Borys
1 Old man squints at the setting sun End of the day, his walk is done
Three miles down the abandoned track, rest a while, then three miles back
Often as a young boy, he'd walk these silver rails
hop a boxcar on a local run
.. sit and watch as the express came steaming through
and wonder where it would end up when it wass done
(..he heard someone say this was the trail to tomorrow..)
2 Old man sits on his worn porch chair lookin at the valley in the cool night air
Used to be lit by stars at night, now cars and trucks, and highway lights
When he became a young man, he worked these silver rails
kept the right of way safe and true
but as the years passed, he’d see fewer trains
.. soon there was no work left for him to do
(..often he'd walk back to those rails, but now all he saw was..)
Rust and Weeds and Weary Wood .. reminders of what used to be
The trail to tomorrow was lost in yesterday and all that's left's the memory
3 Old man wakes at half-past one, hears the lonesome whistle .. of the late-night run
the faraway chugging of live steam, but then he knows it was just a dream
(..cause tomorrow when he walks to the tracks , he knows all he'll see is..)
Rust and Weeds, and Weary Wood .. reminders of what used to be
The trail to tomorrow was lost in yesterday and all that's left's the memory
paved over or abandoned. (I'm not sure what is more depressing, NOT seeing
rails where they used to be, or to see the existing track overgrown and neglected.)
As a musician, I try to express myself, so here are the lyrics to a song I wrote. Maybe
some day I'll be brave enough to post an mp3 of me performing it.
Let me know if this touches a chord in anyone...
Rust and Weeds ©2009 Walt Borys
1 Old man squints at the setting sun End of the day, his walk is done
Three miles down the abandoned track, rest a while, then three miles back
Often as a young boy, he'd walk these silver rails
hop a boxcar on a local run
.. sit and watch as the express came steaming through
and wonder where it would end up when it wass done
(..he heard someone say this was the trail to tomorrow..)
2 Old man sits on his worn porch chair lookin at the valley in the cool night air
Used to be lit by stars at night, now cars and trucks, and highway lights
When he became a young man, he worked these silver rails
kept the right of way safe and true
but as the years passed, he’d see fewer trains
.. soon there was no work left for him to do
(..often he'd walk back to those rails, but now all he saw was..)
Rust and Weeds and Weary Wood .. reminders of what used to be
The trail to tomorrow was lost in yesterday and all that's left's the memory
3 Old man wakes at half-past one, hears the lonesome whistle .. of the late-night run
the faraway chugging of live steam, but then he knows it was just a dream
(..cause tomorrow when he walks to the tracks , he knows all he'll see is..)
Rust and Weeds, and Weary Wood .. reminders of what used to be
The trail to tomorrow was lost in yesterday and all that's left's the memory
