Lyrics:
As she glides along the woodland o'er the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine hear those lonesome hoboes call
Traveling through
the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodland through the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine hear the lonesome hobos call
the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodland through the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine hear the lonesome hobos call
We clockin' all the dollars, we rock a lot of gold
The other crews mad 'cause we fucking all they hoes
Woodland, Custer Ave, me and my crew are thugs
flavor you happen see
I live in the shade of a forest of green
In the wildest of woodlands that you've ever seen
There's rabbits and quail and tender
As she glides along the woodland o'er the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine hear those lonesome hoboes call
Traveling through
Pussywillows, cat-tails, soft winds and roses
Rain pools in the woodland, water to my knees
Shivering, quivering, the warm breath of spring
me,
Flies by pursuit and ever visits face.
I see it in the woodlands, silver beauty
I feel it in the very breathing of the air.
I stretch my hand
Fair are the meadows
Fairer still the woodlands
Robed in the blooming garb of spring
Jesus is fairer jesus is purer
Who makes the woeful heart to sing
the rippling waters fall
No changes can be taken
On the Wabash Cannonball
Listen to the jingle
And the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodlands
on fire
Come fly with me and I will show you
Passions of the woodland flowers desire
Cos I love you man
I love you like I love the four high seasons
rove
Slumber on
Slumber on
My little gypsy sweetheart
Little gypsy
Wild little woodland dove
All my heart's true love
Can you hear the love song
and crown.
Fair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands,
Robed in the blooming garb of spring;
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful
and the roar
As she glides along the woodlands
Through the hills and by the shores
Hear the mighty rush of engines
Hear the lonsome hobos' call
We're travelling
As she glides along the woodland o'er the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine hear those lonesome hoboes call
Traveling through
landscapes, frostbitten woodlands
Frozen thunder, hellish blizzard storms
Here snow will always fall
Black majestic winter magic
The evil frozen moonlit nights
Never had much to say, he traveled alone with no friends
Like a shadowy ghost at dawn he came and he went
Through the woodland swiftly gliding,
rove
Slumber on
Slumber on
My little gypsy sweetheart
Little gypsy
Wild little woodland dove
All my heart's true love
Can you hear the love song
Last night, I was woken by my cry
Had a dream just as plain as you and I
Saw the morning sun on a woodland in the spring
Still hear the echo
mek she face disgrace
Don't let she go to waste
Don't let she go to waste
If you have a sistren and she
come from woodland home
Irie spirit
Just outside of delta country
Where the bitter weeds growin' wild
Born seven miles outside of Woodland
Was a Chicasaw County child
An Poppa
Just outside of delta country
Where the bitter weeds growin' wild
Born seven miles outside of Woodland
Was a Chicasaw County child
An Poppa
escapes me
Flies by pursuit and ever visits face
I see it in the woodlands, silver beauty
I feel it in the breathing of the air
I stretch my hand
the rippling waters fall
No changes can be taken on the Wabash Cannonball
Listen to the jingle, the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodland
Through
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