Train
are starting to rumble, wheels beginning to roll There's a short shovel full of number 9 coal Hey, mister are we running on time No, mister engineer, think we're falling
we crash on the trestle? Will we pass on the plain? All I can guess is, we'll be that train No way to stop em? No way to Keep your on the throttle and your eye on the rail
Send the word to the sherriff, make the people lie the cook and the coachman, there's no turning round Up ahead is the tunnel, beyond is the bend Pass the to the preacher, it's all up to him
Said the preacher's drinking and he's starting to cry Saying God Almighty, we're all gonna die All the are betting nobody survives And the Indian is taking a dive
The undertaker is laughing, the doctor's cold as a The fiddle player is playing there's no like 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 collided in midair they say When the finally settled, all they found was a hole And a short shovel full of number 9 coal
A hundred years after and a hundred high The captain looks down from the sky And he to his soldiers, "She's pullin too strong" "We can hold her together, but we can't her for long"
So we for a message and we search in our souls As we through the wreckage like we're shoveling coal.