The Battler

See the caboose lights leave round the track, my hands are scraped with sand and cinders After Kalkaska the train rides on, all the way to Mancelona But I swear I'll get that brakeman some day Beechwood burrs crack under my shoes, there's burning logs and fallen timber Fires in the dark and a ham and egg sandwich, and Ad and Bugs by the grease and skillets And I swear I'll get Ad Francis some day Back to the track and the next town over, and now I'm sure I need no woman, Now I'm sure I need no woman