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Am | |
I'm a | walking down the track, |
I've got tears in my eyes,
I'm tryin' to read a letter from my home;
If that train runs me right,
I'll be home Saturday night,
'Cause I'm nine hundred miles from my home.
E7 | Am | |
And I | hate to hear that lonesome whistle | blow, |
E7 | Am | |
That | long lonesome train whistlin' | down. |
Well this train I ride on,
Is a hundred coaches long,
You can hear her whistle blow a hundred miles;
And if this train runs me right,
I'll see my woman Saturday night,
'Cause I'm nine hundred miles from my home.
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow,
That long lonesome train whistling down.
I will pawn you my wagon,
I will pawn you my team,
I will pawn you my watch and my chain;
And if tins train runs me right,
I'll be home Saturday night,
'Cause I'm nine hundred miles from my home.
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow,
That long lonesome train whistling down.
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