The Little Red Caboose Behind the Train

Conductor he’s a fine old man his hair is turning grey
He works on in the sunshine and the rain
And the angels are all sober as he rides all alone
In that little red caboose behind the train

Twas a year ago his hair was black as jet
It’s whiter now, his heart has known such pain
And I’ll tell you all a story, a story that is true
Of that little red caboose behind the train

He met her in September, she was so fair and sweet
All times together they’d walk lover’s lane
Never was a girl so fair, no sweeter ever rode
In that little red caboose behind the train

Was on a frosty morning, the cold north wind did blow
The cold had frozen up the window pane
They were riding to the city, twas on their honeymoon
In that little red caboose behind the train

The engineer had ridden that line for many years
He said the cold was driving him insane
But he held onto that throttle, his pal was in the rear
In that little red caboose behind the train

The fast express came roaring at ninety miles an hour
The brake he tried to see but was in vain
And his fingers all were frozen and he said a silent prayer
For that little red caboose behind the train

Was after the collision among the wreckage there
They found her body crushed amid blood stain
Many were the tears and heartache, and many were the prayers
For that little red caboose behind the train

They placed her in the grave yard beside the railroad track
He still works in the sunshine and the rain
And the angels are all sober as he rides all alone
In that little red caboose behind the train