Folks in Nashville slammed the door
Said, "We don't want you anymore
Find your own way down the road
Pack your fiddle and your guitar
Take a train or take a car
Find someone else to keep
Oh, he always sang the blues
Like it was all he ever knew
He didn't sing at all that night
He was pale and as he dozed
He didn't know his time had closed
Slumped in the back seat to the right
So they send him on night train, South
Through the cities and the rural routes
Just one more place to go
Ah, the whistle sang the bluest note
Like it came from his own throat
Moanin' sad and cryin' low
