There's a shanty in the town
On a little plot of ground
Where the green grass grows all around, all around.
The roof's so worn,
So badly torn,
That it tumbles to the ground.
It's a little old shack
That's set right back
Twenty-five feet from the railroad track,
Linger in my mind
Most all of the time,
Keeps calling me back
To my little old shack.

Feeling just as sassy
As Haile Selassie --
If I was a king,
'Twouldn't mean a thing --
Put my boots on tall,
Read the writing on the wall,
And it wouldn't mean a thing, not a goddamn thing.
There's a queen waiting there
In a rocking chair,
Blowing her top on some gator beer.
Looking all around
And a-trucking on down,
How I want to get back to my shantytown!

Where does that come from, anyway? I've sung it for 50 years, and I've never known.