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Hundred-fifty tons of steel, rolling through the night |
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Sparks are dancing in the smoke, the fire's raging wild |
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Hundredweights of blackest coal to feed its burning hunger |
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A melting pot of glowing steel, a hell of grime and smoke |
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Smoke and fire, run that pyre |
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Steam and thunder gonna roll you under |
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Rage and fury gonna spell its name, Locomotive |
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The railway's gonna squeaking hard, wheels are dragging over |
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Red hot grease is on the steel, oiling all the bars |
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Rhythm's gonna pounding hard, the monsters own thunder |
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The whistle-pipe is blowing strong, foretelling what to come |
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Smoke and fire, run that pyre |
|
Steam and thunder gonna roll you under |
|
Rage and fury gonna spell its name, Locomotive |
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The stoker's gonna shoveling coal to melt it in the fire |
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Sweat is dripping from his brow, vaporizing in the heat |
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Pressure's gonna rising high, speeding up the engine |
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Purgatory comes alive to burn on fires rage |
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So comon now |
|
Hundred-fifty tons of steel, rolling through the night |
|
Sparks are dancing in the smoke, the fire's raging wild |
|
Hundredweights of blackest coal to feed its burning hunger |
|
A melting pot of glowing steel, a hell of grime and smoke |
|
Smoke and fire, run that pyre |
|
Steam and thunder gonna roll you under |
|
Rage and fury gonna spell its name, Locomotive |
