Down the mountainside
To the coastline
Past the angry tide
The mighty diesel whines.
And the tunnel comes
And the tunnel goes
Round another bend
The giant drivers roll.
I rode the Highball
I fired the Daylight
When I turned sixty-five
I couldnt see right.
It was Mr. Jones,
Weve got to let you go
Its company policy
Youve got a pension though.
Roll on, Southern Pacific
On your silver rails
On your silver rails
Roll on, Southern Pacific
On your silver rails
Through the moonlight.
I put in my time
I put in my time
Now Im left to roll
Down the long decline.
I aint no brake man
Aint no conductor
But I would be though
If I was younger.
Roll on, Southern Pacific
On your silver rails
On your silver rails
Roll on, Southern Pacific
Roll on, on your silver rails.
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