Wreck Of The Old 97

Well they gave him his orders at
Monroe Virginia
Saying Steve
You're way behind the times
This is not 38
This is old 97
So get her into Spencer on time
Well he turned around and said
To his old greasy fireman
Shovel on a little more coal
When we 'cross that big
White mountain you'll be watchin'
Old 97 start to roll
Well it's a mighty long road from Lynchburg down to Danville
On a line of three-mile grade
It was on that grade that he lost his airbrakes
Shoulda seen the jump he had to make
They were going down the grade at 90 miles an hour
When the whistle broke into a scream
He was found in the wreck
With his hand on the throttle
Scalded to death day by the steam
Well a telegram came from Washington city
And this is how the telegram read
That the brave engineer in the old 97
Is layin' out in Danville and he's dead
Now all of you ladies take heed
And take warning
And try to learn
Never speak harsh words against your lovin' husband
'Cause he may never return
No he may never return