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Poor Tom Here's a tale of Tom Who worked the railroads long His wife would cook his meal As he would change the wheel Poor Tom, Seventh Son, Always knew what's goin on Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom There ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom Worked for thirty years Sharing hopes and fears Dreamin' of the day He could turn and say Poor Tom, work's done, been lazin' out in the noonday sun Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom His wife was Annie Mae With any man a game she'd play When Tom was out of town She couldn't keep her dress down Poor Tom, Seventh Son, always knew what's goin on Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom And so it was one day People got to Annie Mae (?) Tom stood, a gun in his hand And stopped her runnin' around Poor Tom, Seventh Son, gotta die for what you've done All those years of work are thrown away To ease your mind is that all you can say? But what about that grandson on your knee? Them railroad songs, Tom would sing to me Ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom Keep-a Truckin'
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