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The clickety sound of the southbound freight |
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And the high-speed hum of a passenger train |
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Becomes a part of the soul and a heart and the mind |
|
Of a boy who's raised by the railroad line |
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The sound of a whistle at the crossin' road |
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And the tanks and the trucks and the tractors on the flatcar load |
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Becomes a part of the soul and a heart and the mind |
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Of a boy who's raised by the railroad line |
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And the big round penny that you lay on the rails and the wheels mash flat |
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And a glimpse of the faces of the ladies |
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And the picture of the men in the engineer's hat |
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And the brakeman waves from the red caboose |
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He's a part of the past never quite turns loose |
|
It's a part of the soul and a heart and the mind |
|
Of a boy who's raised by the railroad line |
|
The clickety sound of the southbound freight |
|
And the high-speed hum of a passenger train |
|
Becomes a part of the soul and a heart and the mind |
|
Of a boy who's raised by the railroad line |
|
And the big round penny... |
