traditional
I'm walking down this track,
I've got tears in my eyes,
Trying to read a letter from my home.
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night.
I'm nine hundred miles from my home.
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow.
I'll pawn you my watch
And I'll pawn you my chain;
Pawn you my gold diamond ring.
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night.
I'm nine hundred miles from my home. And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow.
The rain I ride on
Is a thousand coaches long.
You can hear that whistle blow a hundred miles.
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night.
I'm nine hundred miles from my home.
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow.
If my woman says so
I will railroad no more
I'll sidetrack my wheeler and go home.
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night.
I'm nine hundred miles from my home.
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow