The clickety sound of the southbound freight
And the high-speed hum of the passenger train
Becomes a part of the soul and a part of the mind
Of the boy that's raised by the railroad line
The sound of the whistle at the cross in the road
And the tanks and the trucks and the tractors on the flat car load
Becomes a part of the soul and the heart and the mind
Of the boy that's raised by the railroad line
Bridge:
And the big round penny that you lay on the rail and the wheels mash
flat
And a glimpse of the faces of the ladies and the men and the engineer's
hat
And the brakeman waves from the red caboose
He's part of the past that never quite turns loose
A part of the soul and the heart and the mind
Of the boy that's raised by the railroad line