Ken Ficara

Smashed old cars piled up in stacks Houses with their backs up against the tracks A community college right next door to a jail All aboard ride the Northeast Corridor rail The train I ride is sixteen coaches long (Walk back for seats!) I bought me a ticket just as long as my right arm (Five-dollar surcharge!) Gonna ride it like I find it on that Northeast Corridor line Just before I was born They tore down Penn Station Fallen angels in the dirt of the Meadowlands Now you get your train in an ugly mall wasteland You ride through the weeds and you ride through the rust You ride by factories all gone bust There's nothing left but broken windows and faded signs And old men in bars remembering better times There was the Broadway Limited, the Cannon Ball The Pennsylvania and the New York Central Now it's New Jersey Transit running on what's left of the tracks Airplanes are flying, industry's dying, and it ain't never coming back You built a railroad and you made it run You made it race against time But now we can't spare a dime; brother can't you just face facts These days in your town there ain't no right side to the tracks