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Clark |
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When I was a young boy evening sun went down |
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Stand off by the railroad tracks and I'd listen for the sound |
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Of that Kansas City Southern man that'a a lonesome sound |
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Well I'd sit and watch those trains go by |
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And wish that I was outward bound |
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Well I'd dream about big cities |
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And the pleasures I would keep |
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Long about twelve-thirty thru the phases of my sleep |
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I'd hear that Kansas City Southern, man that'a a lonesome sound |
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Well I'd sit and watch those trains go by |
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And wish that I was outward bound |
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Well now I've been in a couple of places |
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Seen a couple of things |
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Whenever I think back in time |
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My memory forth rings |
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With that Kansas City Southern, man that'a a lonesome sound |
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Well I'd sit and watch those trains go by |
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And wish that I was homeward bound |
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Don't you know how the whistles blows |
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Don't you know how the whistles blows |
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Don't you know know know how the whistle blows |