r-e-t-r-o-g-a-l
The Milwaukee Road, November 1944
SON, if you walked those tracks west, you'd walk into a country so big you'd feel about knee high to a grasshopper.
You'd see Indians sure—and cowboys, too—but you'd see lots of other things. Miles and miles of grain, more sheep than you ever counted—cattle galore; sky-scrapin' mountains that look like they had a hunk of ice cream on top of' em.
You'd see rushin' water turnin' factory wheels and changin' yellow waste country to land as green as our pasture; apples half as big as your head and trees as tall as Jack's bean stalk. You'd meet friendly people, livin' on farms and ranches an in up-and-comin' towns and cities that ain't much older than you, as towns go.
Finally, you'd wind up lookin' out over the Pacific Ocean—lookin' west to where your brother Jim is with his Marine outfit. Yes sir, if you'd walk those tracks west, you'd see a powerful lot of what Jim's fightin' for.
The Milwaukee Road, November 1944
SON, if you walked those tracks west, you'd walk into a country so big you'd feel about knee high to a grasshopper.
You'd see Indians sure—and cowboys, too—but you'd see lots of other things. Miles and miles of grain, more sheep than you ever counted—cattle galore; sky-scrapin' mountains that look like they had a hunk of ice cream on top of' em.
You'd see rushin' water turnin' factory wheels and changin' yellow waste country to land as green as our pasture; apples half as big as your head and trees as tall as Jack's bean stalk. You'd meet friendly people, livin' on farms and ranches an in up-and-comin' towns and cities that ain't much older than you, as towns go.
Finally, you'd wind up lookin' out over the Pacific Ocean—lookin' west to where your brother Jim is with his Marine outfit. Yes sir, if you'd walk those tracks west, you'd see a powerful lot of what Jim's fightin' for.