| I am just an Indian and once this was my land
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| Now it’s been taking from me by the coming of a white man
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| And the anger makes my blood run hot and heavy in my veins
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| Everytime I think about the coming of the trains.
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| The day was hot and dusty in the year of '69
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| As we heard the whistle blowing somewhere down the line
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| That was the year I rode with Frank and Jesse James
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| As we waited for the coming and the going of the trains.
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| The drought hit west Texas the ground was cracked and dry
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| We just had to have some water or our crops would surely die
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| The railroad shipped this water till we finally got some rain
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| And I thanked God for the coming and the going of the trains.
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| I lived behind these iron bars I’m a prisoner doing time
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| And I’ve heard that midnight freight pass at least the thousand times
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| And I spent my time a walking to the door and back again
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| And marking down the coming and the going of the trains.
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| I’ve always been an engineer and trains’re all I know
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| Ah they don’t want me anymore and they say that I’m too old
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| But my cabin at the crossing sorta helps to ease my pain
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| For I just had to feel the coming and the going of the trains.
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| The trucks and planes’re faster now and the railroad is too slow
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| And they just came and told me that my railroad has to go
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| The hands that built the railroad through sweat and blood and pain
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| Will sign the final papers of the going of the trains.
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| And I have seen the coming and the going of the trains… |