My Grandaddy was a railroad man.
When I was young he took me by the hand.
Dragged me to the station at the break of dawn.
Said, "Boy, I got to show you somethin' 'fore it's gone."
She was blue and silver - she was right on time.
We rode that Texas Eagle on the Mopac line.
We had some sandwiches that Granma packed.
We rode to Palestine and hitchhiked back,
Home in time for supper with a tale to tell.
That night I dreamed I heard that lonesome whistle wail.
When I got old enough to take the train alone,
I rode that Texas Eagle down to San Antone.
Nowadays they don't make no trains,
Just the piggyback freighters and them Amtrak things.
They shut the Eagle down awhile ago.
Sold it to the railroad down in Mexico.
But every now and then that whistle's on my mind.
I ride that Texas Eagle 'cross the borderline.