Archive for the ‘New York’ Tag

Poor Little Joe

While strolling one night through New Yorks gay throng
I met a poor boy who was singing a song
And although he was smiling he wanted for bread
And although he was singing he wished himself dead
I spoke to this poor boy out in the snow
He had no place to shelter him no where to go
No Mother to guide him in the grave she is low
Lost on the cold street was poor little Joe

Cold blew the blast down came the snow
He had no place to shelter him no where to go
No MOther to guide him in the grave she was low
Died on the cold street did poor little Joe

A carriage passed by with a lady inside
I looked on poor Joes face and saw that he cried
He followed the carriage she not even smilied
but fondly caressing her own darling child
I looked on this wail and I thought it was odd
If this poor ragged urchin forgotten by God
And I saw by the firelight that shone in the snow
The pale deathly features of poor little Joe

The lights had gone out and the clock had struck one
Along came a policeman whos duty was done
I could tell by the sound of his duty heavy feet
You’d think he was sinking the grave of the deep
Oh what is this the policeman said
It was poor little Joe on the ground he was dead
With his face turned to heaven all covered with snow
Died on the cold street did poor little Joe

Advertisements

The Little Red Caboose Behind The Train

While riding on the Band 6 from Phillie to N.Y.
And meditating as the train rolled by some happy thoughts came back to me
I’ll mention them to you
The thoughts of when I was a railroad boy
And if you will but listen I will tell you of the fun
That we had in sunshine snow or rain
 We all would get together round the cosy little fire
In the little re caboose behind the train

At night when we’d lay down to sleep upon our humble cots
We would always sing some old familar strain
And the angels they watch over us as we lay fast asleep
In the little red caboose behind the train

I was flagman on the train and did my duty well
And always kept the signals in good trim
Especially the red lights they were always in their place
All polished up and brightened was the tin
We also used to cook our meals and eat aboard the train
When our friends would join us we’d get rasin cane
We always had a pantry and we kept in neat and clearn
In the little red caboose behind the train

The boys all knew when pay day came
They were wathing for the car
And when they saw it coming up the grade
They waited for their wages then all would go to town
But the first thing they would see their board was paid
Then what a time the boys all had drinking lemonade
They would spend their money freely more to gain
but when they’d got a small sized bun you would see them steering off
For the little red caboose behind the train