I think of times when I was young

I travelled 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 woods the freight train would roll

'Cross fields of grain muddy river plain

My heart would often go



The engineer's hair is gray

Worn out engine can't even go slow

I listen for the 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 engines quiet and cold

Metal chimes in the howling wind

The boiler's busted whistle cracked

Never hear her blow again