Train Whistle Blues
by Jimmie Rodgers
". . . the Jimmie
who was a brakeman, a happy-go-lucky youngster forever
strumming and singing—when he wasn't 'going high on box
cars; caring little whether he had a job or not—but
loving the old smokies, silver rails and the hollow
whistles from that old smokestack.' Whistles? Pretty
train whistles? . . . He'd jump up from the table,
leaving a delicious nourishing hot meal to grow cold and
tasteless—while he rushed outside where he could hear
better, to—listen; just listen to some old smokie in the
distance—'whoo-o—'." —Mrs. Carrie Rodgers
Train Whistle Blues
When a woman gets the blues, she hangs her head and
cries
When a woman gets the blues, she hangs her head and
cries
But when a man gets the blues, he grabs a train and
rides.
Every time I see that lonesome railroad train
Every time I see that lonesome railroad train
It makes me wish I was going home again.
Look a-yonder coming, coming down that railroad track
Look a-yonder coming, coming down that railroad track
With the black smoke rolling, rolling from that old
smoke stack.
I've got the blues so bad till the whole round world
looks blue
I've got the blues so bad till the whole round world
looks blue
I ain't got a dime, I don't know what to do.
I'm weary now, I want to leave this town
I'm weary now and I want to leave this town
I can't find a job, I'm tired of hanging around.
