GREEN LIGHT ON THE SOUTHERN
Norman Blake
Key of C

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

The engineer in his ol' iron cab, gold watch in his hand,
Lookin' at the water glass, and lettin' down the sand.
Rollin' out on the ol' main line takin' up the slack,
Gone today but so they say, tomorrow he'll be back.

CHORUS: Oh, if I could return to those boyhood days of mine,
And that Green Light on the Southern, Southern Railroad Line.

Creepin' down the rusty rail's weed grown branch line,
Section house grey and white by the yard limit sign.
The hogger's call the ol' high ball, 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 beams clear,
The drivers roll on the green and gold and gettin' mighty near.
Handin' up the orders to the engine crew on time,
It's the Alabama Great Southern AGS Railroad Line