Hear that train, that old train,

Rollin’ down the railroad in my brain.

It’s been gone seven days,

But the sound of that whistle could drive anybody insane.

Well she left, by the door.

Never seen her move so quickly before.

But the note on the wall,

I was lookin’ right at it, and I almost didn’t see it at all.

And it said, “Listen, son. 

Don’t you let her do what her big sister done.

‘Cause I’ll be back one lonesome day.

The sound of that whistle gonna carry our blues away.”

‘Cause you’re dust, then your dust. 

In between times I guess you just do what you must.

When the last trumpet plays,

It’s too late, baby, to think about your evil ways.

Hear that train, that old train,

Rollin’ down the railroad in my brain.

It’s been gone seven days,

Yes, but the sound of that whistle could drive anybody insane.

…The sound of that whistle could drive anybody insane.

…The sound of that whistle would drive most folks insane.