Casey Jones

I'll tell you a story all about John Luther With the Jones' pride and joy How he come down here from Casey town He was a Tennessee mountain boy He loved the Illinois Central Line down the cabin And on the Memphis Cannonball And you can set your clock on Casey's whistle You could hear his fireman call Casey Jones, Casey Jones I was stepping on down the line You could hear his whistle for a hundred miles Here comes Casey, and he's making up time Well, he climbed aboard at the Memphis Station And the rain was falling down The night was dark, and from the yard You couldn't see the bright lights of town Number 638 began to growl like thunder And the drivers began to roll And the old conductor stuck his head out the winder And he hollered, "Bless my Soul"! (I swear it's) Casey Jones, Casey Jones I's stepping on down the line You could hear his whistle for a hundred miles Here comes Casey, and he's making up time It was on that grade down upon Mississippi On a side track, clear by the main Casey looked out the winder and, on his line He saw the cars of the big freight train Well, he told his fireman that he oughta jump It was going to be a terrible ride Then he laid on the brake, and he blew that whistle And that's how Casey died (You know it's) Casey Jones, Casey Jones I was stepping all over this land That train was longer than a hundred miles Casey died with a whistle in his hand, hey! Casey Jones, Casey Jones I was stepping on down the line You could hear his whistle for a hundred miles There goes Casey, and he's making up time!