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Well the alley dogs are barking |
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Chickens crowing down the lane |
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And I feel just like that hipster |
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With his mournful low refrain |
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With the sun down on my shoulders |
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Just a hanging around the yard |
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I'm leaving here tomorrow |
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Gonna catch an empty car |
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There's a thousand constellations |
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In that brilliant, beaming sky |
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But the Earth is just one station |
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On that lonesome, starry line |
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There's a distant whistle blowing |
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Down a rusty stretch of track |
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And i'm just an empty coal car |
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On that train not coming back |
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Well I hate to see that evening sun go down |
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Well it's lonesome coming down my trail |
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Well I know this train will take me where i'm bound |
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But I hate to see that evening sun go down |
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Well the sidewalks have their streetlamps |
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And the city has a glow |
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And the poor boy has the moonlight |
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Walking in his shadow |
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But the night time can't be trusted |
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To return the morning sun |
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And my eyes have not adjusted |
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To this black face I got on |
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Well I hate to see that evening sun go down |
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Well it's lonesome coming down my trail |
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Well I know this train will take me where i'm bound |
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But I hate to see that evening sun go down |
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Well the night time makes you lonesome |
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For that early morning sun |
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For the light upon the engine |
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Reaching towards the dawn |
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You can spend your whole life racing |
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Down rusty railroad lines |
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It's the setting sun you're chasing |
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In that dark and rolling sky |
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Yes I hate to see that evening sun go down |
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Well it's lonesome coming down my trail |
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Well I know this train will take me where i'm bound |
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But I hate to see that evening sun go down |
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Yes I hate to see that evening sun go down |
