Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

East Texas Red by Tom Russell Lyrics

Genre: pop | Year: 2004

(Woddy Guthrie)

Down in the scrub oak country
To the southeast Texas Gulf
There used to ride a brakeman
A brakeman double tough
He worked the town of Kilgore
And Longview twelve miles down
And the travellers all said
Little East Texas Red
He was the meanest bull around

If you rode by night or the broad daylight
In the wintery wind or the sun
You would always see little East Texas Red
Just a sportin' his smooth-runnin gun
And the tale got switched down the stems and mains
And everybody said
That the meanest bull
On them shiney irons
Was that little East Texas Red
It was on a cold and a windy morn'
It was along towards nine or ten
A couple of boys on the hunt of a job
They stood that blizzardy wind
Hungry and cold they knocked on the doors
Of the workin' people around
For a piece of meat
And a carrot or spud just a boil of stew around

East Texas Red come down the line
And he swung off that old number two
He kicked their bucket over a bush
And he dumped out all of their stew
The travellers said, "Little East Texas Red
You better get your business straight
Cause you're gonna ride
Your little black train just one year from today."

Well Red he laughed and he climbed the bank
And he swung on the side of a wheeler
The boys caught a tanker to Seminole
Then west to Amarillo
They caught them a job of oil-field work
And followed a pipeline down
It took them lots of places
Before that year
Had rolled around
Then on a cold and windy day
They caught them a Gulf-bound train
They shivered and shook with the dough in their clothes
To the scrub oak flats again
With their warm suits of clothes and overcoats
They walked into a store
They paid that man
For some meat and stuff
Just a boil of stew once more

The ties they tracked down that cinder dump
And they come to the same old spot
Where East Texas Red just a year ago
Had dumped their last stew pot
Well, the smoke of their fire went higher and higher
And Red come down the line
With his head tucked low in the wintery wind
He waved old number nine
He walked on down through the jungle yard
And he came to the same old spot
And there was the same two men again
Around that same stew pot

Red went to his kness and he hollered
"Please, don't pull your trigger on me
I did not get my business straight."
But he did not get his say
A gun wheeled out of an overcoat
And it played that old one two
And Red was dead when the other two men
Sat down to eat their stew