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In the eyes of the old ones |
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Who watched from a distance |
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It was a devilish magic at best |
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But the hearts of the children |
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Were filled with excitement |
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As they dreamed of their house in the West |
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Oh the engine would fire the black smoke would rise |
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Thru the spray of the slick silver steam |
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It was something of wonder that steel plated thunder |
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That moved the American dream |
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That moved the American dream |
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I can hear the sleepy whistle blowin' |
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I can see the spark beneath the wheels |
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As the leaves the hills behind her |
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For the ragged cotton fields |
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In a dusty one-house station |
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All the children grow impatient |
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As they stare into the distance for a sign |
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Here she comes can't you hear her whistle whine |
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Here she comes rollin' in my bloodline |
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Running' in my bloodline |
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Old man Grady waves his lantern |
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"All on board" I hear him cry |
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While Lucius stokes the cinder |
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And wipes the coal dust from his eyes |
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Yes she was prowd and full of fire |
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As she road that silver wire |
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>From the Kansas Plains to the great Sierra Pine |
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Here she comes can't you hear the whistle whine |
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Here she comes rollin' in right on time |
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I can feel her she's runnin' in my bloodline |
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Runnin' in my bloodline |
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Here she comes |
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Now the stockyards are empty |
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The steel rails are rusted |
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They belong to the wind and the sand |
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But we long will remember |
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The steel and the timber |
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And the pulse that once beat thru this land |
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Oh the engine would fire the black smoke would rise |
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Thru the spray of the slick silver steam |
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It was something of wonder that steel plated thunder |
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That moved the American dream |
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That moved the American dream |
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The American dream |
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Dream |
