Casey Jones

I'll tell you a story all about John Luther
With the Jones' pride and joy
How he come down here from Casey town
He was a Tennessee mountain boy

He loved the Illinois Central Line down the cabin
And on the Memphis Cannonball
And you can set your clock on Casey's whistle
You could hear his fireman call

Casey Jones, Casey Jones
I was stepping on down the line
You could hear his whistle for a hundred miles
Here comes Casey, and he's making up time

Well, he climbed aboard at the Memphis Station
And the rain was falling down
The night was dark, and from the yard
You couldn't see the bright lights of town

Number 638 began to growl like thunder
And the drivers began to roll
And the old conductor stuck his head out the winder
And he hollered, "Bless my Soul"!

(I swear it's)
Casey Jones, Casey Jones
I's stepping on down the line
You could hear his whistle for a hundred miles
Here comes Casey, and he's making up time

It was on that grade down upon Mississippi
On a side track, clear by the main
Casey looked out the winder and, on his line
He saw the cars of the big freight train

Well, he told his fireman that he oughta jump
It was going to be a terrible ride
Then he laid on the brake, and he blew that whistle
And that's how Casey died

(You know it's)
Casey Jones, Casey Jones
I was stepping all over this land
That train was longer than a hundred miles
Casey died with a whistle in his hand, hey!

Casey Jones, Casey Jones
I was stepping on down the line
You could hear his whistle for a hundred miles
There goes Casey, and he's making up time!