(Jerry Foster - Bill Rice)

The only thing I really own
Is what you see me wearing on my back
The only friends I've ever known
Are the kind you meet along a railroad track.

The kind you b__ tabacco from
And view the world through a boxcar door
A friend who talks and makes you laugh
Has nothing much but gives you half
And maybe you don't see him anymore.

Special, I hear your lonesome whistle whine
It's calling me,
Special, keep moving me on down the line.

My mackinaw is full of holes
And ain't too good at keepin' out the cold
My shoes are worn as paper thin
My feet can feel the cinders through the soles.

Sometimes I see a pretty girl
And wonder what I've missed along the way
Once someone special wore my ring
And loved me more than anything.

I gave her up and caught a train one day
Special, I had a special girl one time
Now she's not mine
Special keep moving me on down the line...

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