Well, I ride on a mail-train, baby, can't buy a thrill,
I've been up all night, baby, leaning on the windowsill.
Well, if I die on top of the hill
And if I don't make it, you know my baby will.
Don't the moon look good, honey, shining through the trees?
Don't the brakeman look good, baby, flagging down the Double E?
Don't the sun look good going down over the sea?
But, don't my gal look fine when she's chasing after me?
Wintertime is coming, the windows are filled with frost,
I went to tell everybody, but I could not get across.
Well, I wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be your boss.
Don't say I never warned you if your train gets lost.