poor Tom

Heres a tale of Tom
Who worked the railroads long
His wife would cook his meal
As he would change the wheel
Poor Tom, Seventh Son, Always knew whats goin on
Aint a thing that you can hide from Tom
There aint nothing that you can hide from Tom
Worked for thirty years
Sharing hopes and fears
Dreamin of the day
He could turn and say
Poor Tom, works done, been lazin out in the noonday sun
Aint a thing that you can hide from Tom
His wife was Annie Mae
With any man a game shed play
When Tom was out of town
She couldnt keep her dress down
Poor Tom, Seventh Son, always knew whats goin on
Aint a thing that you can hide from Tom
And so it was one day
People got to Annie Mae
Tom stood, a gun in his hand
And stopped her runnin around
Poor Tom, Seventh Son, gotta die for what youve done
All those years of work are thrown away
To ease your mind is that all you can say?
But what about that grandson on your knee?
Them railroad songs, Tom would sing to me
Aint nothing that you can hide from Tom
Hey,keep-a Truckin
Keep-a Truckin