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
The sound of a whistle at the crossin' road And the tanks and the trucks and the tractors on the flatcar load 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 that you lay on the rails And the wheels mash flat And a glimpse of the faces of the ladies And the picture of the men in the engineer's hat
And the brakeman waves from the red caboose 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
And the big round penny that you lay on the rails And the wheels mash flat And a glimpse of the faces of the ladies And the picture of the men in the engineer's hat
And the brakeman waves from the red caboose 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.