GREEN LIGHT ON THE SOUTHERN
(Norman Blake)

Standing on the sidetrack at the south end of town
On a dry, hot dusty August day, the steam pipe blowin' down,
The foreman with his long oil can oiling the old valve gear,
Waiting for the fast mail train the semaphore to clear.

The engineer in his old iron cab, his gold watch in his hand,
Looking at the water glass and letting down the sand,
Rolling out on the old main line, taking up the slack,
Gone today, but so they say, tomorrow he'll be back.

CHO: Oh, if I could return to those boyhood days of mine,
And the green light on the Southern, Southern railroad line!

Creeping down the rusty rails of the weed-grown branch line,
Section houses gray and white by the yard limit sign,
The hoggers call the old highball, no more time to wait,
Rollin' down to Birmingham with a ten car local freight.

The whistle screams with a hiss of steam. The headlight gleams clear.
The drivers roll and the green and gold getting mighty near.
Handing up the orders to the engine crew on time,
It's the Alabama Great Southern, A. G. S. Railroad line.


Recorded by Norman Blake & Tony Rice on "Blake & Rice," 1987.
@train
filename[ GRENSOUT
BS
Feb07
mudcat.org

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