It crashed and burned about 1912 A real big f**er about a mile long Rolled over houses underneath the turn It k**ed the gramma of my perfect one I know it is because of this that she was never born I saw a picture 1939 A little girl with a face like mine The train behind her hand an open door She was the mother of my perfect one
And it is because of this that she was never born So many tombstones by the railroad line Say "This lady left not a soul behind" Wait at the station, I don't wait for long Could've been a d**h train about 12 miles long Stacked full of grammas for my perfect one I don't know what happened but she was never born