Another tie! Another spike!! Come and bring that hammer down!
And another steel nail found its home
In the cold and wintery ground.
Press on! Press on!! It's coming soon!
The village wives did pray.
As the gang worked down the final slope
To the thirty-two of Kay.

Then from over the mountains, back in the hills
There floated a strange new sound.
A lonesome drifting kind of song,
Like a timberwolf's sad moan.
It floated down from those distant hills
Where we'd spent those sweat-stained days,
And it cried as a ghost might moan, "Make haste!"
"Make the thirty-two of Kay!"\

The citizens watching down below
All froze with a look of fear.
They wondered at that weird cry,
And the children cried in fear.
And the men and women at the rail
Just doubled their speed once more.
For they knew the sound of the MOAB Train
Crossing thirty one five oh four.

They knew the hour was drawing near
When their work would win, or die
And they knew they had to finish that line
Where that mighty train would fly.
For she would not stop, she could not stop
Once she started the long, long grade
That led down from those towering mountain heights
To the Thirty Two of Kay.

Then the last rail settled into its bed.
The bumpers stood like soldiers.
The last sharp spike was hammered in,
ANd the crew boss yelled, "Now, hold her!"
Then out of the mist and down the grade
Came a blur like the break of day
As the MOAB engine and ninety cars
Rattled home to 32 Kay.