Between the white mansions and the little shacks
walks a man of olden ways
Some say he holds the spirit of Guthrie
No, he’s just a remnant of bygone days
A thousand years and some more
His hands turn to dust as he reaches for the door
His feet turn to clay and he falls to the floor
All the screams are drowned out by that highway roar
Brown now white tinged with grey
Time took his youth with his world too
And as the replica turns he yearns
To go back to those bygone days
Ask him if it was better back then-he’ll say no
But the sunlight was rich and life was slow
Now he’s lined up in a desolation row
Just another dot on a broken domino
You can plead for his name but he’ll just say
You can help me remember if you stay
It’s another thing I’ve let slip away
Oh, I’m just a remnant of bygone days
