ITâ€™S going to come out all rightâ€”do you know? The sun, the birds, the grassâ€”they know. They get alongâ€”and weâ€™ll get along.
Some days will be rainy and you will sit waiting And the letter you wait for wonâ€™t come, And I will sit watching the sky tear off gray and gray And the letter I wait for wonâ€™t come.
There will be ac-ci-dents. I know ac-ci-dents are coming. Smash-ups, signals wrong, washouts, trestles rotten, Red and yellow ac-ci-dents. But somehow and somewhere the end of the run The train gets put together again And the caboose and the green tail lights Fade down the right of way like a new white hope.
I never heard a mockingbird in Kentucky Spilling its heart in the morning.
I never saw the snow on Chimborazo. Itâ€™s a high white Mexican hat, I hear.
I never had supper with Abe Lincoln. Nor a dish of soup with Jim Hill.
But Iâ€™ve been around. I know some of the boys here who can go a little. I know girls good for a burst of speed any time.
I heard Williams and Walker Before Walker died in the bughouse.
I knew a mandolin player Working in a barber shop in an Indiana town, And he thought he had a million dollars.
I knew a hotel girl in Des Moines. She had eyes; I saw her and said to myself The sun rises and the sun sets in her eyes. I was her steady and her heart went pit-a-pat. We took away the money for a prize waltz at a Brotherhood dance. She had eyes; she was safe as the bridge over the Mississippi at Burlington; I married her.
Last summer we took the cushions going west. Pikeâ€™s Peak is a big old stone, believe me. Itâ€™s fastened down; something you can count on.
Itâ€™s going to come out all rightâ€”do you know? The sun, the birds, the grassâ€”they know. They get alongâ€”and weâ€™ll get along.