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| The Last Train, Gone: A Conversation with Grandpa | |
| By bwoz | ||||||||||
| 05 February 2007 | ||||||||||
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A bit long winded, just a story about trains. Please forgive the slang. The place was Promontory where they drove that golden spike, where east joined west and a steel tone whistle sounded right as rain for them workin' men settin’ cedar ties in molten slag until that rail ran coast to coast And they gave 'er a name. When it was comin' it took for 'ever boys, and when It was done it was gone for good – never comin’ back. All up and down the line little towns pop up Just long enough to load the train Then pack it in for another camp on up the line. A sign o' the times back in ' 39. Times 'er gone – never comin' back. Everything locked up tight when the sun goes down ‘cuz mornin' comes damn quick on that powderline, And a steady hand holds no gar' untee. You miss your mark, boy, and you’re gone for good. "So don't rush it," man says, "just pack 'er smooth and tight, Then DUCK! and let 'er fly." HA! A lot o' good men – never comin' back. On the map she showed like a surgical scar On the face of a proud young land. State to state we could ride in high fashion up top In the diner car; "Land sakes boys I'm ridin' high" Through the dusk into the promised land – never comin' back All them little towns down by the tracks. And she took our sons to war back in forty-two, slipped away into the night, slick as glass, WHEWSHSHSHshsh All them young boys packed inside like mice in a giant snake's belly, came home on the same line, most of 'em Same as the ones who left, just different though. All up and down that line, wasn't a time when folks didn't talk 'bout trains; LIVED for trains. Man says, "I saw U.P. on the side Of a box car." and we says "I saw U.P. on the other side, too." HA! Union Pacific – never comin' back. Here she comes now... listen! That steel tone whistle. Three o'clock, right as rain. H e r e s h e COMES, WHAM! She’s in your bones, like rollin' dynamite creasin' the hair down the back o' your neck. Rattle the dead and shake up the night, deliver this country to a new age, rockin' with the rhythm of the ties: CLACKA -- CLACK CLACK CLACKA -- CLACK CLACK CLACKA -- CLACK CLACK Now just lullabies for her babies, late for a plane. Just some old stories 'bout livin' down by the tracks, Just old times... and never comin' back.
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