I see the slow train coming
The light at Thompson's Station
In the last seconds of dusk
Paints a funeral, so beautiful
And now I'm waiting, by the phone
A slowly breaking heart that knows
You're gonna make me, lonesome when you go
The bones down by the river
And the crows feed on the carrion
They'll feed on us too soon
I sold my heart for stolen gold
I played my part so I suppose
You're gonna make me lonesome when you go
I see the slow train coming