Train To Birmingham - John Hiatt

I’ve been riding on this train

Drinking whiskey for the pain

Just another good old boy going home

And every town I see

Seems to take a part of me

That’s a price that you pay when you roam

And I lie when I have to

And I cry when I can

But I die a little slower

On the train to Birmingham

I got holes in both my shoes

And a guitar full of blues

A one-way ticket for a remedy

It’s the same old lonesome song

I’ve been singing all night long

Hey porter, are we out of Tennessee?

And I cry when I have to

And I lie when I can

But I die a little slower

On the train to Birmingham

Every year I ride this train

To Alabama in the rain

When I get that lonesome feeling in my bones

But I never get to Birmingham

But getting there is not the plan

No, I just like the feel of going home

And I lie when I have to

And I cry when I can

But I die a little slower

On the train to Birmingham

Well, I die a little slower

On the train to Birmingham