From the recording The Great Majority
Lyrics
Old roads, old dogs, and old folks
Old bridges running over old streams
Old ladies on old porches, swinging on old porch swings
This old town ain't what it used to be
This old train used to run these old tracks
Used to run the soldiers there and back
Took my brother off to god knows where, and we still do miss old Jack.
He came home in a box beneath a flag
The highway isn't kind to the wheel
Like a thousand railroad trains upon the steel
There ain't nothing like a war reminds a man how he feels
And what's left of this old town when he leaves
We used to fly old glory high and proud
Til the names in the paper grew too loud
Then we hung it in the back of our garage upside down
And no stories of my brother were allowed
There used to be an old dive bar downtown
Where old men drank old whiskey by themselves
Where my old man would get drunk, get mean, and get kicked out
And we'd have to pick his drunk ass off the ground
Old roads, old dogs, and old folks
Old churches where old pastors stand and preach
An old time fiddle plays from the graveyard down the street
This old town ain't what it used to be