The Great Conch Train Robbery - Shel Silverstein

'Twas sunset down in old Key West

The locals all were high.

The tourists snapped their photographs

And munched their Key Lime pie.

And meanwhile down at Sloppy Joe’s

The drinks were standin' tall

With Buffett on the jukebox

And Hemingway on the wall.

Then up spoke Sam the Shrimper:

He said, «I've been a shrimper all my life.

My daddy was a shrimper

And my mom’s a shrimper’s wife.

And I’m tired of bein' a shrimper

'cause a shrimper’s life’s too tame

So I’m gonna ride the Conch Train, boys,

And be like Jesse James.

Gonna be like Jesse James, boy…

Gonna be like Jesse James.

Case you didn’t hear me the first three times…

Gonna be like Jesse James.»

Now the Conch Train is a tourist toy

That rolls through Key West Town

Like some weird ride from Disneyland

It drives the tourists round and round

While the engineer on her P.A.

Points out all the sites

«Well, Tennessee did you-know-what

To you-know-who that night.»

«The tourists all have money», said Sam

«Their wives all have rings of gold.

Their mopeds all are pawnable.

Their cameras can be sold.

And think of all the glory, boys,

The money and the fame

To be the first and only man

To rob the Key West Train.»

Now the engineer of the Conch Train

Her name was Betsy Wright.

She drove the Conch Train all day long

And loved Shrimper Sam all night.

And with some sweet persuasion,

She agreed to join the game:

She’d slow it down and flag the lad

And let him ride the train.

The conch train made its turn

Down the Smathers Pitch

When Shrimper Sam with a snorkle eye

Leaped naked from the sea.

His fillet knife was in his hand.

He jumped aboard the train.

«Give up your bucks, you tourist schmucks.

I’m Key West Jesse James.

I’m Key West Jesse James, boy…

Key West Jesse James…

Case you didn’t hear me the first three times…

I’m Key West Jesse James.»

Now unbeknownst to Shrimper Sam

In the third car from the rear,

Sat Kelso Bolls from Muscle Shoals,

An American Legioneer.

He was a redneck of respect

And a marksman of reknown.

From under his fat

He drew a Gat,

And shot the shrimper down.

Now the first time that he shot poor Sam,

Sam groaned and clutched his side.

The second time that he shot poor Sam,

Sam fell to his knees and cried.

And the third time that he shot poor Sam,

You could see in both their eyes

Lash LaRue and Randolph Scott

Beneath the Western skies.

We laid poor Sam upon the sand

And we lifted up his head.

We listened close to hear the words

The dying shrimper said.

He said, «Boys, you know I had my chance

But I went and botched the job,

But how can a boy named Jesse James

Without a train to rob?»

Then Kelso Bolls took off his hat

And the tears streamed down his face.

He said, «Son, I know just how you feel.

This world’s a changin' place».

When history is written,

Uh… they won’t recall our names,

But I only got to play Pat Garrett

'cause you played Jesse James.

We buried Sam in the southernmost sands

Close by the southernmost waves

Where sweet Betsy Wright

Cries tears every night

Onto his southernmost grave.

And on his tombstone say the words

«Stick to your own game.

And if you are a shrimper,

Do not try to rob a train.»