I'm gonna lay my troubles on a railroad track. I'm gonna ride, I ain't lookin' back. I tried to stop but I can't unpack. Gotta get used to the clickety clack.
I gotta guitar all my own, I gotta quarter for the telephone. I ain't headed down this highway all alone. One two three and maybe four honey, they're knockin' on my door.
Well, Billy went down to the battleground. To find a little trinket he could call his own. Didn't see nothin' lying around. He decided he'd dig awhile.