Oh, that train I ride on is a hundred coaches long
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles
If that train runs right I'll be home tomorrow night
'Cause I'm nine-hundred miles from my home
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow
I'm a-walkin' down that track
I've got tears in my eyes
Trying to read the letter from my home
If that train runs right, I'll see my woman Saturday night
I'm nine-hundred miles from my home
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow
