Down the mountainside

To the coastline

Past the angry tide

The mighty diesel whines.

And the tunnel comes

And the tunnel goes

Round another bend

The giant drivers roll.

I rode the Highball

I fired the Daylight

When I turned sixty-five

I couldn't see right.

It was Mr. Jones,

We've got to let you go

It's company policy

You've got a pension though.

Roll on, Southern Pacific

On your silver rails

On your silver rails

Roll on, Southern Pacific

On your silver rails

Through the moonlight.

I put in my time

I put in my time

Now I'm left to roll

Down the long decline.

I ain't no brake man

Ain't no conductor

But I would be though

If I was younger.

Roll on, Southern Pacific

On your silver rails

On your silver rails

Roll on, Southern Pacific

Roll on, on your silver rails.