[1] I remember as a boy how in [4] wonderment and [1] joy
I'd watch the trains as they'd go [5] by
And the [1] whistle's lonesome sound you could [4] hear from miles [1] around
As they rolled across that [5] Greenville Trestle [1] high

But the [4] whistles don't sound like they [1] used to
Lately not many trains go [5] by
Hard [1] times across the land mean no [4] work for a railroad [1] man
And the Greenville Trestle [5] now don't seem so [1] high

On the riverbank I'd stand with a cane pole in my hand
And watch the freight trains up against the sky
With the black smoke trailing back as they moved along the track
That runs across that Greenville Trestle high

When the lonesome whistles whined I'd get rambling on my mind
Lord I wish they still sounded that way
As I turned to head for home Lord she'd rumble low and long
Toward the sunset at the close of day