The eastbound train was crowded, one cold December day.
She conducted shouted tickets in an old-time-fashioned way.
A little girl in sadness, her hair as bright as gold,
She said, I have no tickets, but just a little story to tell.
My father, he's in prison, he's lost his sight, they say.
I'm going for his pardon, this cold December day.
But this daily story, she's trying to learn her way.
My poor dear old blind father, he's in prison almost dead.
My brother and my sister would both be very glad,
If I could only bring back my poor dear old blind dad.
The conductor could not answer, he could not make him lie.
While taking his rough hands and wiping, the tears fell from his eyes.
He said, God bless you, little one, just stay right where you are.
You'll never need a ticket, while I am on this tour.
Thank you.