Pooter Brown (blame it on the drank)

There's a homeless guy riding the railroad and his name is Pooter Brown

He doesn't have a home but he's got freedom, as he goes from town to town

He likes cheap whiskey and he smokes cigarettes, even though they're no good

Sometimes he sleeps alone in a boxcar, but it's the only life he knows

He's got a harmonica and he plays it well as the train whistle blows

Pooter was in Vietnam and still haunts him, America turned its back on the vet

But he ain't mad nomore, he's glad he's not at war and he's not living life in debt

Pooter got no money or family but he's still got his pride

He maybe be a homeless man but he don't need that life, he still feels good inside

The rails are his life, he used to have a wife but she's long since passed away

Even though she's gone he can't forget her, he thinks about her every day

So Pooter rides the rails and and he goes where he wants, noones his boss

He calls all his shots, he's troubled by some thoughts but Mr Brown is free

Pics courtesy of Pixabay

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Background: Not sure if this is a story, song or a poem?..it's definitely something though. It all started with a bitta alcohol and a joke I made earlier tonite with the name Pooter Brown in it. I thought that was a good name and then this happened.

Thanks for reading,

@goldenarms

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