| What I feel is like an old freight train
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| Five miles long in the pouring rain
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| Rolling out of Detroit, loaded up with shiny cars
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| And I’m sitting in a Cadillac smoking on a big cigar
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| What I feel’s like an engine room
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| Open my door get a whiff of perfume
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| Look at that diesel burning up the atmosphere
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| Oh, when you hear me blow honey baby, know I’m near
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| I’m going down to Lincoln town
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| To turn your pretty little head around
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| Take the next train outward bound
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| Carry you out of Lincoln town, oh
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| I’m gettin' on my home is with you
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| There ain’t no town or city will do
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| I need a rolling partner to carry me down the line
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| And I’m a-comin' into Lincoln town baby, right on time
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| Because love is like an automobile
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| Or maybe a freight train depends on how you feel
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| Big wheels rolling baby, 'til that engine whines
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| On rubber or steel honey baby, I don’t mind
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| 'Cause I’m going down to Lincoln town
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| Turn your pretty little head around
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| Take the next train outward bound
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| Carry you out of Lincoln town
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| We’re comin' to get you baby, alright
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| Oh, now when you see that old black smoke
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| You know it’s time to pack you a poke
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| Meet me at the station about a quarter to nine
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| While you can ride in my Cadillac or baby you can rack the blinds
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| I don’t mind
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| 'Cause I’m going down to Lincoln town
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| Turn your pretty little head around
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| Take the next train southward bound
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| Carry you out of Lincoln town
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| I said, «I'm going down to Lincoln town
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| Turn your pretty little head around
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| Take the next train southward bound
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| Carry you out of Lincoln town»
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| Oh, I’m comin' to get you baby, oh |