Train
Tracks are starting to rumble, wheels beginning to There's a short shovel full of number 9 coal Hey, mister brakeman are we running on No, mister engineer, think falling 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 and your eye on the rail
Send the word to the sherriff, make the lie down Tell the cook and the coachman, there's no round Up ahead is the tunnel, just is the bend Pass the to the preacher, it's all up to him
Said the preacher's been drinking and starting to cry Saying Great God Almighty, we're all die All the porters are nobody survives And the Cowboy is taking a dive
The undertaker is laughing, the doctor's cold as a The fiddle is playing there's no place like home be making the trestle just over the hill If we make it now boys, we never will
When the trains hit the trestle and the trestle way The two collided in midair they say When the dust finally settled, all found was a hole And a short handle full of number 9 coal
A hundred years after and a miles high The commander looks down from the sky And he says to his soldiers, "She's too strong" "We can hold her together, but we hold her for long"
So we look for a message and we in our souls As we sift the wreckage like we're shoveling coal.