| A smokin', long black Cadillac; |
| the engine’s winding down
|
| He parked it up on the sidewalk like he owned the whole damn town
|
| I saw him talking to some chick through a thick ghost of smoke
|
| Through a thicker haze of Southern Comfort and Coke
|
| «Say girl you’re hotter than the hinges hanging off the gates of hell
|
| Don’t be afraid to turn to me babe if he don’t treat you well.»
|
| And by he, he meant me, so I laughed and I shook his hand
|
| He laughed a little bit louder as he yelled up at the band
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| Play a train song, pour me one more round
|
| Make 'em leave my boots on; |
| on the day they lay me down
|
| I am a runaway locomotive, out of my one-track mind
|
| Play a train song, play a train song
|
| I got this old black leather jacket, got this pack of Marlboro reds
|
| Got this stash here in my pocket, got these thoughts in my own head
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| I’m gonna run until I have to walk, until I have to crawl
|
| Got this moment that I’m living in and nothing else at all
|
| In the television blizzard lights, we looked around his place
|
| A little cold beer on his sofa, a little smile across his face
|
| And though I tried with all of my sadness, somehow I just could not weep
|
| For a man who looked to me like he died laughing in his sleep
|
| Singing a train song, pour him one last round
|
| Made 'em leave his boots on; |
| on the day they layed him down
|
| He was a runaway locomotive, out of his one-track mind
|
| Play a train song, play a train song
|
| Play a train song, play a train song |