|
PART 1: |
|
I woke up this mornin', four o'clock. |
|
Mister Casey told his fireman, get his boiler hot. |
|
Put on your water, put on your coal. |
|
Put your head out of the window, see my drivers roll. |
|
See my driver roll. |
|
Put your head out of the window, see my driver roll. |
|
Lord, some people say that Mister Casey couldn't run. |
|
Let me just tell you what Mister Casey done. |
|
He left Memphis, it was quarter to nine. |
|
Got to Newport News, it was dinnertime. |
|
It was dinnertime. |
|
Got to Newport News, it was dinnertime. |
|
I've sold my gin, I've sold it straight. |
|
Police run me to my woman's gate. |
|
She comes to the door, she nod her head. |
|
She made me welcome to the foldin' bed. |
|
To the foldin' bed. |
|
Made me welcome to the foldin' bed. |
|
Lord, the people said to Casey "You're runnin' over time." |
|
"You'll have another loser with the one-o-nine." |
|
Casey said, "This ain't in mind. |
|
I'll run it in close just to make my time." |
|
Said to all the passengers, "Better keep yourself hid |
|
Naturally gonna shake it like Chainey did." |
|
Like Chainey did. |
|
Naturally gonna shake it like Chainey did. |
|
Mister Casey run his engine within a mile of the place. |
|
Number four stared him in the face. |
|
The depot told Casey, "Well, you must leave town." |
|
"Believe to my soul I'm Alabama bound." |
|
"Alabama bound." |
|
"Believe to my soul I'm Alabama bound." |
|
Missus Casey said she dreamt a dream, |
|
The night she bought her sewin' machine. |
|
The needle got broke, she could not sew. |
|
She loved Mister Casey, 'cause she told me so. |
|
Told me so. |
|
Loved Mister Casey, 'cause she told me so. |
|
There was a woman name Miss Alice Fry. |
|
Said, "I'm gonna ride with Mister Casey 'fore I die. |
|
I ain't good looking but I take my time. |
|
A rambling woman with a rambling mind. |
|
Got a rambling mind." |
|
PART 2: |
|
Casey looked at his water, water was low. |
|
Looked at his watch, his watch was slow. |
|
On the road again. |
|
Natural born Eastman on the road again. |
|
Lord, there's people tell by the throttle moan, |
|
The man at the fire's Mister Casey Jones. |
|
Mister Casey Jones. |
|
Mister Casey said, before he died, |
|
One more road that he wants to ride. |
|
People tells Casey, "Which road is he?" |
|
"The Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe. |
|
Santa Fe." |
|
This mornin' I heard someone was dyin'. |
|
Missus Casey's children on the doorstep cryin'. |
|
Mama, mama, I can't keep from cryin', |
|
Papa got killed on the Southern line. |
|
On the Southern line. |
|
Papa got killed on the Southern line. |
|
"Mama, mama, how can it be? |
|
Killed my father and you weren't the first to grieve?" |
|
"Children, children want you to hold your breath. |
|
Draw another pension from your father's death. |
|
From your father's death." |
|
On the road again. |
|
I'm a natural born Eastman on the road again. |
|
Tuesday mornin', it looked like rain. |
|
Around the curve came a passenger train. |
|
Under the boiler lay Mister Casey Jones. |
|
Good old engineer, but he's dead and gone. |
|
Dead and gone. |
|
On the road again. |
|
I'm a natural born Eastman on the road again. |
|
I left Memphis to spread the news. |
|
Memphis women don't wear no shoes. |
|
Had it written in the back of my shirt, |
|
Natural born Eastmen don't have to work. |
|
Don't have to work. |
|
I'm a natural born Eastman, don't have to work. |
