Lonesome Whistle

All eyes out on the railroad, all eyes out sea.
All these things travel darling mean nothing once your soul has been set free.
So hear that lonesome whistle blowing, in the shadows of the sin.
Winds are high and the tides are flowing the?
rolls down the rail.
Little red bird in the corn, there a black bird at the door.
Lord I know if he should ever cross over the blood would hit the floor.
So hear that lonesome whistle blowing, hear that engine call from line.
See those black sails meet horizon, that old black bird knows its time.
Harkin hear the angles hum, 6 wide horse said to run.
My bones rattle between their rungs in the setting of the sun