Here's a tale of Tom
Who worked the rivers run
His wife would cook his meals
As he would check the wheels
Singing poor Tom, Seventh Son
Always knew what's goin on

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom
And there ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom

He worked for thirty years
Sharing hopes and fears
Dreaming of the day
He could turn and say
Poor Tom, work's gone
Lazing out in the noonday sun

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom
And there ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom

His wife was Emmie May
One of many games she played
When Tom was out of town
She couldn't keep her dresses down
A poor Tom, Seventh Son
Always knew what's goin on

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom
And there ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom

And so it was one day
People got to Emmie May
A Tom took a gun in his hand
And stopped all the running around
Poor Tom, Seventh Son
Gotta die for what you've done

All those years of work are thrown away
To ease your mind, is that all you can say?
But what about that grandson on your knee?
And then wrote songs as well as he could be

Ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom
And there ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom
And there ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom
And there ain't nothing that you can hide from Tom

Hey, keep a trucking
Keep a trucking, yeah