Freight Train to Nowhere - North Mississippi All Stars

Miss Misfortune sails down the rails with her brow to the windowpane

The scenery that she sees in her soul doesn’t match with the blur in her brain

Oh, she can trace the tricks of the tracks like the ribs of a rattlesnake

‘Til all her pastel chalk lines of fact are erased like a schoolgirl’s slate

She is reading her own tattoos

Her diary is the evening news

She can’t give a damn on cue

On a freight train to nowhere

Hey, if she were not scorching the rails with the haste of a bolting ghost

there would be no reason to fear the death rattle in the engine’s throat

She could call for the mini-cams, or take up a gun, or be politically correct

But that kind of justice still preys on the ones with the stones hung around

their necks

Oh, she’s reading her own tattoos

Her diary is the evening news

And she can’t give a damn on cue

On a freight train to nowhere

She’s heard it said, by the drone in her head, that the wages of spend is debt

She figures that’s better than nothing to show for the years of tears and sweat

If she could put her hand on the brake of the land, find the treason in the

diesel and the smoke, she would jar the teeth of the dull and the meek and feed

them the truth until they choke

She is reading her own tattoos

Her diary is the evening news

She can’t give a damn on cue

On a freight train to nowhere

She is reading her own tattoos

Her diary is the evening news

And she can’t give a damn on cue

On a freight train to nowhere