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James Whitcomb Riley - The Train Misser
Work rating: Low

At Union Station

`Ll where in the world my eyes has bin--
Ef I hain`t missed that train ag`in!
Chuff! And whistle! And toot! And ring!
But blast and blister the dasted train--!
How it does it I can`t explain!
Git here thirty-five minutes before
The durn things due--! And, drat the thing
It`ll manage to git past-shore!

The more I travel around, the more
I got no sense--! To stand right here
And let it beat me! `Ll ding my melts!
I got no gumption, ner nothin` else!
Ticket Agent`s a dad-burned bore--!
Sell you a tickets all they keer--!
Ticket Agents ort to all be

Prosecuted-- and that`s jes what--!
How`d I know which train`s fer me?
And how`d I know which train was not--?
Goern and comin` and gone astray,
And backin` and switchin` ever`-which-way!

Ef I could jes sneak round behind
Myse`f, where I could git full swing,
I`d lift my coat, and kick, by jing!
Till I jes got jerked up and fined--!
Fer here I stood, as a durn fool`s apt
To, and let that train jes chuff and choo
Right apast me-- and mouth jes gapped
Like a blamed old sandwitch warped in two!
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