Lyrics The Great Conch Train Robbery - Shel Silverstein
′Twas
sunset
down
in
old
Key
West
The
locals
all
were
high.
The
tourists
snapped
their
photographs
And
munched
their
Key
Lime
pie.
And
meanwhile
down
at
Sloppy
Joe's
The
drinks
were
standin′
tall
With
Buffett
on
the
jukebox
And
Hemingway
on
the
wall.
Then
up
spoke
Sam
the
Shrimper:
He
said,
"I've
been
a
shrimper
all
my
life.
My
daddy
was
a
shrimper
And
my
mom's
a
shrimper′s
wife.
And
I′m
tired
of
bein'
a
shrimper
′Cause
a
shrimper's
life′s
too
tame
So
I'm
gonna
ride
the
Conch
Train,
boys,
And
be
like
Jesse
James.
Gonna
be
like
Jesse
James,
boy...
Gonna
be
like
Jesse
James.
Case
you
didn′t
hear
me
the
first
three
times...
Gonna
be
like
Jesse
James."
Now
the
Conch
Train
is
a
tourist
toy
That
rolls
through
Key
West
Town
Like
some
weird
ride
from
Disneyland
It
drives
the
tourists
round
and
round
While
the
engineer
on
her
P.A.
Points
out
all
the
sites
"Well,
Tennessee
did
you-know-what
To
you-know-who
that
night."
"The
tourists
all
have
money",
said
Sam
"Their
wives
all
have
rings
of
gold.
Their
mopeds
all
are
pawnable.
Their
cameras
can
be
sold.
And
think
of
all
the
glory,
boys,
The
money
and
the
fame
To
be
the
first
and
only
man
To
rob
the
Key
West
Train."
Now
the
engineer
of
the
Conch
Train
Her
name
was
Betsy
Wright.
She
drove
the
Conch
Train
all
day
long
And
loved
Shrimper
Sam
all
night.
And
with
some
sweet
persuasion,
She
agreed
to
join
the
game:
She'd
slow
it
down
and
flag
the
lad
And
let
him
ride
the
train.
The
conch
train
made
its
turn
Down
the
Smathers
Pitch
When
Shrimper
Sam
with
a
snorkle
eye
Leaped
naked
from
the
sea.
His
fillet
knife
was
in
his
hand.
He
jumped
aboard
the
train.
"Give
up
your
bucks,
you
tourist
schmucks.
I'm
Key
West
Jesse
James.
I′m
Key
West
Jesse
James,
boy...
Key
West
Jesse
James...
Case
you
didn′t
hear
me
the
first
three
times...
I'm
Key
West
Jesse
James."
Now
unbeknownst
to
Shrimper
Sam
In
the
third
car
from
the
rear,
Sat
Kelso
Bolls
from
Muscle
Shoals,
An
American
Legioneer.
He
was
a
redneck
of
respect
And
a
marksman
of
reknown.
From
under
his
fat
He
drew
a
Gat,
And
shot
the
shrimper
down.
Now
the
first
time
that
he
shot
poor
Sam,
Sam
groaned
and
clutched
his
side.
The
second
time
that
he
shot
poor
Sam,
Sam
fell
to
his
knees
and
cried.
And
the
third
time
that
he
shot
poor
Sam,
You
could
see
in
both
their
eyes
Lash
LaRue
and
Randolph
Scott
Beneath
the
Western
skies.
We
laid
poor
Sam
upon
the
sand
And
we
lifted
up
his
head.
We
listened
close
to
hear
the
words
The
dying
shrimper
said.
He
said,
"Boys,
you
know
I
had
my
chance
But
I
went
and
botched
the
job,
But
how
can
a
boy
named
Jesse
James
Without
a
train
to
rob?"
Then
Kelso
Bolls
took
off
his
hat
And
the
tears
streamed
down
his
face.
He
said,
"Son,
I
know
just
how
you
feel.
This
world′s
a
changin'
place".
When
history
is
written,
Uh...
they
won′t
recall
our
names,
But
I
only
got
to
play
Pat
Garrett
'Cause
you
played
Jesse
James.
We
buried
Sam
in
the
southernmost
sands
Close
by
the
southernmost
waves
Where
sweet
Betsy
Wright
Cries
tears
every
night
Onto
his
southernmost
grave.
And
on
his
tombstone
say
the
words
"Stick
to
your
own
game.
And
if
you
are
a
shrimper,
Do
not
try
to
rob
a
train."
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