| He slowly raised the trembling hand
|
| Gently brushed the silver strand of hair from his wrinkled brow
|
| Lips that used to talk so free the eyes that used to beckon me were silent now
|
| He listens to a passing train, gives into an old familiar pain, familiar pain
|
| They retired him twenty years ago, gave him a watch made of gold and took his
|
| train
|
| His woman’s name was Margaret
|
| He loved her but she went away and left his heart undone
|
| He called this train the Diplomat, she’s the only other lady that he ever loved
|
| Some forty years he made the steam
|
| From Memphis down to New Orleans but now he’s off the line
|
| And the closest that he ever gets Margaret or the Diplomat is in his mind
|
| He said, take me to the station, the Diplomat is bringing Margaret home
|
| Can’t you hear that whistle blowing? |
| They both know I’ve been alone for much
|
| too long
|
| Let’s not keep them waiting, we’ll talk about the good times later on
|
| Right now take me to the station, the Diplomat is bringing Margaret home
|
| They say he talks crazy when
|
| He sees the passing train or when he hears Margaret’s name
|
| But the only things he ever loved, he lost before he loved enough he’s not to
|
| blame
|
| So who’s to say he’s right or wrong
|
| Reaching out and hanging on to dreams he can’t let go
|
| He threw the watch of gold away but keeps tracks of memories where he belongs
|
| He said, take me to the station
|
| They retired him twenty years ago, gave him a watch made of gold
|
| And took daddy’s train |