Pastures Of Plenty


I'm walking down this track,
I've got tears in my eyes,
Trying to read a letter from my home
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night
I'm nine hundred miles from my home
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow

I'll pawn you my watch
And I'll pawn you my chain;
Pawn you my gold diamond ring
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night
I'm nine hundred miles from my home
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow

The rain I ride on
Is a thousand coaches long
You can hear that whistle blow a hundred miles
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night
I'm nine hundred miles from my home
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow

If my woman says so
I will railroad no more
I'll sidetrack my wheeler and go home
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night
I'm nine hundred miles from my home
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow







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