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