Wreck of the Old 97

Well, they gave him his orders from Monroe, Virginia
Steve, you're way behind time
It's not '38, it's the old '97
Bring her into Spencer on time

Well, he turned and said
To his old greasy fireman
Shovel in a little more coal
By the time we hit
That White Oak mountain
We'll watch old '97 roll
Here we go

Well, the orders came
From Washington station
This is how it read
That brave engineer who's driving '97
He's laying in Danville, dead

They were reachin' down the grade
Runnin' 90 miles per hour
His whistle broke into a scream
They found him in the wreck
His hand to the throttle
Scalded to death by the steam
Oh!

Now all you ladies
You better take a warning
This time on and learn
Never say harsh words
To your good loving husband
For he may never return

One more time

Poor boy



Credits
Writer(s): Traditional, Kris Ife
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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