I am the trubba man, trubba is my middle name
Yes I am the trubba man, I got trubba shootin’ fame
cause in the day or night they call
I got to go and play the trubba game.
When you’re a trubba man, trubba is the life you made,
I am a trubba man, you know it is my stock and trade;
so I got to try to save this railroad
from all the trubba they have made.
When them trains get late arriving
they will call the signal shack,
got to head out on that eastbound destination track
it could be a bad connection, could be a broken rail,
it could be a wire has come undone and made a motor fail.
It's just another daily story in the never ending tale
of a trubba man.
When that cold telephone is ringing
that means trubba down the line,
rain or snow don't matter
you have just got to find the time
to keep them trains a movin'
there’s no tellin’ what you might find
when you're the trubba man.
Well when you been a trubba man as long as me
gets to where trubba, yes trubba
is all that you can see,
till I believe if I don't find that trubba,
that trubba surely will find me.
- Author: Dan Williams ( Offline)
- Published: November 1st, 2024 00:14
- Comment from author about the poem: I worked the night shift for many years as a passenger rail signal man, a job of often frenzied activity and stifling spells of boredom; during one of those I wrote this. Twelve bar blues will live forever!
- Category: Short story
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Comments2
If trubba is a corruption of trouble, then I get it .. if it aint, then I guess it must be a Halloween thingy .. like hubba bubba boil n trubba ... maybe 🦇🦇🎃🐧👍
It took me a while to get the neologism then it all made sense. Just a bit slow I guess. A fun read Dan
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