I wound up on the wrong side of the tracks again
And it's plain enough to see
That it must've been
The railroad men
That moved them, 'cause I sweat it wasn't me
And I gave away all I owned
Least the things not nice enough to sell
Now I'm drifting down the river heading somewhere fine
As far as I can tell
I thumbed a ride from a DJ, took me
Fifty miles or more the wrong way
I'll be damned
He turned around
Took me back and wasted half his day
He shifted gears, waved good-bye,
And wiped his sweaty brow upon his sleeve
People aren't as bad as the television
Makes them out to be
Lord, Lord we're headed toward
The North star and the Drinking Gourd
Where they're never sad and they're never bored
Perhaps they'll let us stay

All the way to Cardigan
Just to ride the pauper's coach along the bay
Appetite for the nightlife and constabulary end up in the way
You roll the old
Virginia Gold
Son, the good stuff's back from where you came'
And, 'a drifter's just a vagrant's just a bum
Called by any other name'

Southern California's just a party thrown
With no one to surprise
And Hollywood can thank it's lucky stars
That LA is no prize
But every time
I turn to leave
She finds a reason good enough to stay
So I hang my hat one more time, California women
Tend to get their way

Lyrics submitted by SteelyMan

Northstar and the Drinking Gourd song meanings
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