Train
Tracks are starting to rumble, wheels to roll There's a short handle full of number 9 coal Hey, mister are we running on time No, mister engineer, think we're falling
Will we crash on the trestle? Will we on the plain? All I can guess is, be seeing that train No way to em? No way to tell? Keep your on the throttle and your eye on the rail
the word to the sherriff, make the people lie down Tell the cook and the coachman, there's no round Up ahead is the tunnel, just beyond is the the word to the preacher, it's all up to him
Said the preacher's been and he's starting to cry Saying Great God Almighty, all gonna die All the porters are betting nobody And the Indian is taking a dive
The undertaker is laughing, the doctor's as a stone The fiddle player is playing there's no place home We'll be making the trestle just over the If we don't make it now boys, we will
the trains hit the trestle and the trestle gave way The two trains collided in midair say When the dust finally settled, all found was a hole And a short handle shovel full of number 9
A hundred years after and a hundred miles The captain commander looks from the sky And he to his soldiers, "She's pullin too strong" "We can hold her together, but we hold her for long"
So we look for a and we search in our souls As we sift through the wreckage we're shoveling coal.