| The L&N don’t stop here anymore
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| And the whistle of the engine’s just an echo in the wind
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| And that old pot-bellied stove ain’t smoked a log in ten Decembers
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| And a memory’s the railroads next of kin
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| If you close your eyes you just might hear the sound
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| Of a faraway conductor cryin', «People all aboard!»
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| And that water tank that filled the train
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| It sure looks mighty thirsty
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| 'Cause the L&N don’t stop here anymore.
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| And the whistle stops
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| And loadin' docks
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| They’re nearly all deserted
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| And the railroad people all have moved away
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| There’s a ghost town feelin' where there once
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| Were sounds and noise and laughter
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| But like cowboy heros now they’ve gone away.
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| The fancy depot down at Clarksville was the rage
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| But it gave way to time and cobwebs
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| And there’s a sign tacked on the door
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| «This railroad town is now closed down — you’ll have to go to Jackson».
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| 'Cause the L&N don’t stop here anymore.
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| Now the clickity-clack of the railroad track is gone
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| And the depots that stood tall and proud are now about to fall
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| And if Roy Acuff were born today
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| He just might be a farmer
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| 'Cause there wouldn’t be no Wabash Cannonball
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| No, the L&N don’t stop here anymore. |