Santa Fe Train

Santa Fe Train © Chris Brashear (House of Hollis Music, ASCAP)

I think of times when I was young
I traveled near and far
it doesn’t seem so long ago
I saw the world from a railroad car
for many years, rode the line
through the boone’s lick
the great train would roll
cross fields of grain, muddy river plain
my heart would often go
the engineer’s hair is gray
the worn out engine can’t even go slow
I listen for that lonesome sound
can’t you hear that whistle blow
I spy ten boxcars silent and still
they remind me of yesterday
their rusted frames worn and bent
faded letters read santa fe
the great steam engine’s quiet and cold
the metal chimes in the howling wind
the boiler’s rusted, whistle cracked
never hear her blow again

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