Hobo's Lane

Come meet me,
At the end,
Of Hobo's lane,
Where the Seguin river flows.

Listen for the whistle,
Of the train,
As it goes,
Across the spanning bridge.

Pray that the Bull's,
Don't get me,
As I hide this freight car,
Of hay and wood.

Wear your sweat perfume,
That I adore,
And ruby red lipstick,
So, I know you.

Come meet me,
 At the end,
Of Hobo lane,
Where the Seguin river falls.

Listen for the shuffling,
Of my feet,
As I dash along,
Watching for thorny bushes,
Along the narrow lane.

Can't wait to feel,
Your loving touch,
As the train reaches,
The outer limits,
Of Parry Sound.

So, meet me,
At the end,
Of Hobo lane,
Where the Seguin river forms.