| I’m on the last train to nowhere, I can hear that whistle blow
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| And the chances are that I’ll go where all the saints and sinners go
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| I’ve only got a oneway ticket, so I never will return
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| But there’ll be no tears in the after years, 'cause there’s no one left to yearn
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| Been in peculiar places, in countries near and far
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| By boat and train and big jet plane, by bus and touring car
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| I’ve done my time in the cooler, a cell in a country jail
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| It is lonesome there but it can’t compare with a seat on the nowhere mail
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| When bugles blew in wartime, I joined them over there
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| I did my best, I had no rest, but I didn’t really care
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| I never was good at shootin', 'cause I didn’t care to kill
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| Oh, but my very best mate met a soldier’s fate, now he lies on nowhere hill
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| I’m on the last train to nowhere and there’s no one on the brick
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| Just a whistle loud and a smoky shroud on the final trip I take
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| I’m on the last to nowhere, the train that’s never late
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| But no more hails and nowhere mails, it’s going through the Pearly Gate
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| I’m on the last train to nowhere, I can hear that whistle blow
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| And the chances are that I’ll go where all the saints and sinners go
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| I’ve only got a one-way ticket, so I never will return
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| But there’ll be no tears in the after years, 'cause there’s no one left to yearn
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| Oh, there’s no one left to yearn |