Route 1, Box 144 Lyrics

Route 1, Box 144

His dying barely made the morning paper;
And they summed it up in twenty words or more;
Spoken:
?Killed in action, leaves wife and baby,
At Route one, Box one forty for.?

He never did great things to be remembered;
He had never been away from home before;
Spoken:
?But you?d've thought he was president or something,
At Route one, Box one forty for.

Recitation:
He grew up on a little farm just a couple of miles out of town.
As a boy, he worked in his daddy's field.
And, when his daddy could spare him,
He hired out to the neighbors for whatever the could pay him.
He was thought of a just average;
A good boy, nothin? more, - the average amount of friends.

H married his high school sweetheart.
They bought a little plot of gound.
A couple of miles out of town on the mailbox,
It said: ? Route 1, Box 144?;
Back in town, there were very few people that really knew him,
Because he hardly ever came to town; -except for maybe on Saturdays.
Of course, the usual look care of his business;
Bought what he had to have or could afford for his family,
And went back to his little farm.

With a baby on the way, he went to the army.
And it was just a short while,
That the news came that he was killed in action.
His body was sent back on a plane, and then by train.
And then, they brought the body from the train station
To Route 1, Box 144.