When I’m riding a train from France to Switzerland, why does “City of New Orleans” run through my head?
We never got within 250 miles of old Orleans, though we did roll along past houses, farms and fields. And chalets, vineyards and peaks. Majestic, snow-capped peaks.
I definitely felt the wheels rumbling ‘neath the floor, but every time the tune took me to “Good morning, America, how are you?” I came up short. Neither France nor Switzerland had the right number of syllables, and I’m not a native son.
But this magic carpet made of steel swept us through the dreamland of the Alps. More appropriate earworms might be “Edelweiss” or “The Sound of Music” (these hills are alive, but I will keep the sound of music in my head instead of bursting into song), though we won’t reach Austria on this trip.
Is there another train song that could occupy my head? I think I hear “Folsom Prison Blues” a-comin’. But no way this train is headed to San Antone.
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