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 couldn't see right.

It was Mr. Jones,
We've got to let you go

Log on to kill this message.

It's company policy
You've 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 I'm left to roll
Down the long decline.

I ain't no brake man
Ain't 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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