Wreck of Old 97

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Well, they gave him his orders

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In Monroe, Virginia,

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Sayin, Steve, you're way be-hind time.

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This is not thirty-eight,

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But its Old ninety-se-ven

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You must put her in Spencer on time.

Well, he looked round and said
to his black, greasy fireman,
Just shovel on a little more coal,
And when we cross that White Oak Mountain
You can watch Old 97 go.

It's a mighty rough road
from Lynchburg to Danville
In a line on a three-mile grade.
It was on that grade
that he lost his airbrake,
So you see what a jump he made.

He was goin' down grade,
makin 90 miles an hour,
When his whistle broke into a scream.
He was found in the wreck
With his hand on the throttle,
And scalded to death by the steam.

Now the telegram came
Into Washington Station,
And this is what it said:
That brave engineer
That drove old 97
Is layin down in Danville, dead.

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Now then, ladies, you must take warning,

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From this time on and learn,

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Ne-ver speak harsh words

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To your true lo-vin' husband,

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He may leave you and never re-turn. 

(Or end it with )

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ne-ver re-turn.

Добавил: ?, 2011.11.05

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