Sometime Ago

Sometime ago,
in a land forlorn,
when I arrived,
the year I was born.

Times were tough,
I've been told.
Looking for work,
was getting old.

Jobs on the Railroad,
a section gang for me.
Laying new rail and tracks,
in Montana, where I be.

The middle of the depression,
when money was tight,
as bills were mounting,
as we worried through the night.