| On a cold and rainy night I was sittin' in the light
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| Oh my switchman shack of mine post on the mountain
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| The storms were pretty bad and the telephone was dead
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| But it was just eleven hours till the dawn.
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| Then much to my surprice the telegraph jumped in the light
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| As I read the code I thought could this be true
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| The train was on its way headed up to mountain grade
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| But she didn’t have no engineer or crew.
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| At the other switch they tried to put her on the mountain side
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| But she kept on coming up the mountain grade
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| But I quickly dowse the light to try to see into the night
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| Maybe I could spot her headlight in the rain.
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| She was poundin' down below I could hear her whistle blow
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| And I thought Lord that’s a high and mournful sound
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| Then the telegraph again there’s a caving in the mine
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| And the hundred men have burried neath the ground.
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| Lord, she’s coming now I see her round the bend and straight at me
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| And her ballet is glowin' red as coal in hell
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| The headlinght switchin' wide searchin' all the mountain side
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| But the only sound she’s making it’s a wail.
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| Then I recognized the train by the number and the name
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| It’s from miners Silver Ghost 0−40−1
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| Then she vanished up the track by the lonely swutchman shack
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| Like a mother who was looking for her son.
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| Now I heard the story how an engine went to glory
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| Over fifty years ago in the same line
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| It was steaming for the caving there were men needed saving
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| But it missed the curve in trestle near the mine.
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| And every now and then you’ll hear a whistle on the wind
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| It’s from mountail slides where many men’re lost
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| It’s a high and lonely wail and searching up and down the mountain
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| It’s the train they call the Miners Silver Ghost.
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| The train they call the Miners Silver Ghost.
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| The train they call the Miners Silver Ghost… |