As a kid I'd lie awake and hear her blowing
Headlight burning cutting through the night,
Smoke and cinders trailing over freight cars
Pistons pumping Iron Horse in flight.

Imagination driven by old stories
I'd picture poor men huddled on that train
Hobos wrapped in rags and clutching tin cups
No work, no food, Depression-era pain.

There ain't no future in it
"Stay away from the train lines"
There ain't no future in it,
"That clickety-clack will drive you out of your mind."
There ain't no future in it
"Did the hobos never tell
That riding on the Iron Rail's
A ticket out of town and straight to hell."

So hop your westbound freight to nowhere,
Running hard to leave the kids and wife,
Looking for that needle in a haystack
A better job to start a better life.

There ain't no future in it
"Stay away from the train lines"
There ain't no future in it,
"That clickety-clack will drive you out of your mind."
There ain't no future in it,
"Did the hobos never tell
That riding on the Iron Rail's
A ticket out of town and straight to hell."

As a kid I'd lie awake and hear her blowing
Headlight burning cutting through the night,
Smoke and cinders trailing over freight cars
Pistons pumping Iron Horse in flight.