dusted down in shanty town behind a sky of red hoist upon some frozen dawn exploding in my head fast asleep in trouble deep or wide awake and burning stuck inside some stranger s hide whose karma keeps returning where you trail that holy grail of darkness and despair way cross town now up now down as though you d really care on the bus across from us seen once in silhouette the old man s face you couldn t place that now you can t forget down and dirty there you go lucky henry says hello burned his bridges high and low and down the road and gone it s raining boxcars did you know from county cook to baltimore where ever those old jockeys go to live out their lifelines burning down that two lane town the boys call hollywood kicked around now lost now found now lost again for good badly placed or half erased or lost in space and time and all because the real one was the disappearing kind now you tumble now you know lucky henry says hello scratched in verses high and low and down to hell and gone i m told it s raining boxcars that s for sure from bakersfield to elsinore for all what i care anymore for now and forever gone gone gone