| Hundred-fifty tons of steel, rolling through the night
|
| Sparks are dancing in the smoke, the fire’s raging wild
|
| Hundredweights of blackest coal to feed its burning hunger
|
| A melting pot of glowing steel, a hell of grime and smoke
|
| Smoke and fire, run that pyre
|
| Steam and thunder gonna roll you under
|
| Rage and fury gonna spell its name, Locomotive
|
| The railway’s gonna squeaking hard, wheels are dragging over
|
| Red hot grease is on the steel, oiling all the bars
|
| Rhythm’s gonna pounding hard, the monsters own thunder
|
| The whistle-pipe is blowing strong, foretelling what to come
|
| Smoke and fire, run that pyre
|
| Steam and thunder gonna roll you under
|
| Rage and fury gonna spell its name, Locomotive
|
| The stoker’s gonna shoveling coal to melt it in the fire
|
| Sweat is dripping from his brow, vaporizing in the heat
|
| Pressure’s gonna rising high, speeding up the engine
|
| Purgatory comes alive to burn on fires rage
|
| So comon now
|
| Hundred-fifty tons of steel, rolling through the night
|
| Sparks are dancing in the smoke, the fire’s raging wild
|
| Hundredweights of blackest coal to feed its burning hunger
|
| A melting pot of glowing steel, a hell of grime and smoke
|
| Smoke and fire, run that pyre
|
| Steam and thunder gonna roll you under
|
| Rage and fury gonna spell its name, Locomotive |