Train
Tracks are starting to rumble, wheels to roll There's a handle shovel full of number 9 coal Hey, mister brakeman are we running on No, mister engineer, think we're behind
Will we crash on the trestle? we pass on the plain? All I can guess is, be seeing that train No way to stop em? No way to Keep your hand on the throttle and your eye on the
Send the word to the sherriff, make the people lie Tell the cook and the coachman, no turning round Up is the tunnel, just beyond is the bend the word to the preacher, it's all up to him
Said the preacher's been drinking and he's to cry Saying God Almighty, we're all gonna die All the porters are betting survives And the Cowboy is taking a dive
The undertaker is laughing, the cold as a stone The fiddle player is there's no place like home We'll be making the trestle over the hill If we don't it now boys, we never will
the trains hit the trestle and the trestle gave way The two trains in midair they say the dust finally settled, all they found was a hole And a short handle full of number 9 coal
A hundred years and a hundred miles high The commander looks down from the sky And he says to his soldiers, "She's too strong" "We can her together, but we can't hold her for long"
So we look for a message and we in our souls As we sift through the like we're shoveling coal.