Standing at the sidetrack at the south end of the town
On a dry hot dusty August day the steam pipe blowing down
The fireman with his long oil can oiling the old valve gear
Waiting for the fast mail train the semaphore to clear.
The engineer in the old high cab his gold watch in his hand
Looking at the water glass and letting down the sand
Rolling out on the old main line and taking up the slack
Gone today so they say but tomorrow he’ll be coming back.
Oh if I could return to those boyhood days of mine
And the green light on the southern Southern Railroad Line.
Creeping down the rusty rails of the weed grown branch line
The section houses gray and white by the yard and limit sign
The hoggers call the old highball no more time to wait
Rolling down to Birmingham with a ten car load of freight.
The whistle screamed with a hiss of steam the headlight gleams clear
The drivers roll on the green go getting mighty near
Handing out the orders to the engine crew on time
It’s the Alabama Great Southern AGS Railroad Line.