Green Light on the Southern
Norman Blake


Standing on the side track at the south end of town 
On a dry hot dusty August day the steam pipe blowin' down 
The foreman with his long oil can oiling the old valve gear 
Waiting for the fast mail train the semifore to clear. 

The engineer in his old I cab, his gold watch in his hand 
Looking at the water glass and letting down the sand 
Rolling out on the old main line, taking up the slack 
Gone today, but so they say, tomorrow he'll be back. 

Oh, if I could return 
To those boyhood days of mine 
And the green light on the southern 
Southern railroad line. 

Creeping down the rusy rails of the weed-grown branch line 
Section houses gray and white by the yard limit sign 
The hoggers call the old high ball, no more time to wait 
Rollin' down to Birmingham with a ten car local freight. 

The whistle screams with a hiss of steam, the headlight gleams clear 
The driver's roll and the green and gold getting mighty near 
Handing up the orders to the engine crew on time 
It's the Alabama Great Southern A.G.S. railroad line. 

Lyrics contributed by Mark Duin, The Netherlands.