There's a shanty in the town on a little plot of ground
With the green grass growing all around, all around
The roof's so worn, so badly torn
Til it tumbles to the ground
Just a tumbledown shack and it's built way back
About twenty-five feet from the railroad track
Lingers on my mind most all the time
Keeps calling me back to my little old shack

I'd be just as sassy as Haile Selassie
If I were a king it wouldn't mean a thing
Put my boots on tall, read the writing on the wall
And it wouldn't mean a thing, not a doggone thing
There's a queen waiting there in a rocking chair
Just blowing her top on Gaiter's beer
Looking all around and I'm trucking on down
'cause I'm glad to get back to my shanty town