| In the eyes of the old ones
|
| Who watched from a distance
|
| It was a devilish magic at best
|
| But the hearts of the children
|
| Were filled with excitement
|
| As they dreamed of their house in the West
|
| Oh the engine would fire the black smoke would rise
|
| Thru the spray of the slick silver steam
|
| It was something of wonder that steel plated thunder
|
| That moved the American dream
|
| That moved the American dream
|
| I can hear the sleepy whistle blowin'
|
| I can see the spark beneath the wheels
|
| As the leaves the hills behind her
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| For the ragged cotton fields
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| In a dusty one-house station
|
| All the children grow impatient
|
| As they stare into the distance for a sign
|
| Here she comes can’t you hear her whistle whine
|
| Here she comes rollin' in my bloodline
|
| Running' in my bloodline
|
| Old man Grady waves his lantern
|
| «All on board» I hear him cry
|
| While Lucius stokes the cinder
|
| And wipes the coal dust from his eyes
|
| Yes she was prowd and full of fire
|
| As she road that silver wire
|
| >From the Kansas Plains to the great Sierra Pine
|
| Here she comes can’t you hear the whistle whine
|
| Here she comes rollin' in right on time
|
| I can feel her she’s runnin' in my bloodline
|
| Runnin' in my bloodline
|
| Here she comes
|
| Now the stockyards are empty
|
| The steel rails are rusted
|
| They belong to the wind and the sand
|
| But we long will remember
|
| The steel and the timber
|
| And the pulse that once beat thru this land
|
| Oh the engine would fire the black smoke would rise
|
| Thru the spray of the slick silver steam
|
| It was something of wonder that steel plated thunder
|
| That moved the American dream
|
| That moved the American dream
|
| The American dream
|
| Dream |