LYRIC

I'm walking down this track,
I've got tears in my eyes,
Trying to read a letter from my home
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night
I'm nine hundred miles from my home
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow

I'll pawn you my watch
And I'll pawn you my chain
Pawn you my gold diamond ring
If this train runs me right
I'll be home tomorrow night
I'm nine hundred miles from my home
And I hate to hear that lonesome whistle blow

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