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Song: Poor Tom
Album: Coda [released Nov 19, 1982 (US) | Nov 22, 1982 (UK)]
Single: N/A
Credited to: Jimmy Page, Robert Plant
Related Songs:
That's No Way To Get Along - Robert Wilkins (original)
Prodigal Son - The Rolling Stones (previous cover)
She Likes It - Owen Hand (music)

Lyrics:

Here's the tale of Tom who worked the railroad's run
His wife would cook his meals as he would check the wheels
Singin', 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, sharin' hopes and fears
Dreamin' of the day he could turn and say
Poor Tom, work is done, lazin' out in that noon-day sun

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

His wife was Emmie-Mae, and many little games she played
When Tom was out of town, she couldn't keep her dresses down
Poor Tom, seventh son, always knew what's goin' on

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom
There ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom

And so it was one day, fate got to Emmie-Mae
Tom stood, a gun in his hand, stopped all the runnin' around
Poor Tom, seventh son, gotta die for what you've done

All those years of workin' thrown away
To ease your mind, is that all you can say
Well, what about that grandson on your knee
And railroad song's promise he could eat

Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom
And there ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom
Ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom
There ain't a thing that you can hide from Tom
Hey-yeah, keep a-truckin', keep a-truckin', yeah

Influences: This song seems to be a "variation on the theme" of Robert Wilkins' That's No Way To Get Along, recorded in 1929, which was covered by The Rolling Stones for their 1968 Beggar's Banquet album, under the title Prodigal Son. The music for Zep's Poor Tom also bears resemblance to a track recorded in the 1960's called She Likes It, by Owen Hand, who was allegedly a friend of Bert Jansch's.



That's No Way To Get Along - Robert Wilkins

I'm goin' home, friends, sit down and tell my, my mama
Friends, sit down and tell my ma
I'm goin' home, sit down and tell my ma
I'm goin' home, sit down and tell my ma
Now that's no way for me to get along

These low-down women, mama, they treated your, aw, poor son wrong
Mama, treated me wrong
These low-down women, mama, treated your poor son wrong
These low-down women, mama, treated your poor son wrong
And that's no way for him to get along

They treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone
Mama, made of a rock or stone
Treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone
Treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone
And that's no way for me to get along

You know, that was enough, mama, to make your son wished he's dead and gone
Mama, wished I's dead and gone
That is enough to make your son, mama, wished he's dead and gone
That is enough to make your son, mama, wished he's dead and gone
'Cause that's no way for him to get along

I stood on the roadside, I cried alone, all by myself
I cried alone by myself
I stood on the roadside and cried alone by myself
I stood on the roadside and cried alone by myself
Cryin', "That's no way for me to get along"

I's wantin' some train to come along and take me away from here
Friends, take me away from here
Some train to come along and take me away from here
And that's no way for me to get along



Prodigal Son - The Rolling Stones

Well a poor boy took his father's bread and started down the road
Started down the road
Took all he had and started down the road
Going out in this world, where God only knows
And that'll be the way to get along

Well poor boy spent all he had, famine come in the land
Famine come in the land
Spent all he had and famine come in the land
Said, I believe I'll go and hire me to some man
And that'll be the way I'll get along

Well, man said, I'll give you a job for to feed my swine
For to feed my swine
I'll give you a job for to feed my swine
Boy stood there and hung his head and cried
'Cause that is no way to get along

Said, I believe I'll ride, believe I'll go back home
Believe I'll go back home
Believe I'll ride, believe I'll go back home
Or down the road as far as I can go
And that'll be the way to get along

Well, father said, see my son coming home to me
Coming home to me
Father ran and fell down on his knees
Said, sing and praise, lord have mercy on me
Mercy

Oh poor boy stood there, hung his head and cried
Hung his head and cried
Poor boy stood and hung his head and cried
Said, father will you look on me as a child?
Yeah

Well father said, eldest son, kill the fatted calf,
Call the family round
Kill that calf and call the family round
My son was lost but now he is found
'Cause thats the way for us to get along
Hey