I see the slow train coming
Up over the hill
Still got miles to go
But even so
I feel the shaking still

The light at Thompson’s Station
In the last seconds of dusk
Paints a funeral, so beautiful
To the memory of us
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
Beneath the waning Moon
While 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
Up over the hill
Still got miles to go
But even so
I feel the shaking still