| I was five years old when Daddy started packing
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| And I stood there by my mama as she cried
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| And the next thing that we knew
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| Some old train came passing through
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| And Daddy got on board
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| And we ain’t seen him no more
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| I wonder why trains make me lonesome
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| It happens every time that engine moans some
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| And when I hear that whistle blow
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| It makes my heart sink low
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| And I wonder why trains make me lonesome
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| It was a cold dark night when I drove her to the depot
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| There were tears in my eyes and a ticket in her hand
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| And as we stood there by those tracks, I knew she wasn’t coming back
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| So I turned and walked away but I still miss her today
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| This office building looks like central station
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| Those ink spots look engine No. 9
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| And this couch on which I lay
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| Suppose to haul my blues away
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| That old pipe you keep toking
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| Is like an old coal engine smoking |