Standing on the sidetrack at the south end of the town
On a dry, hot, dusty August day the steam pipe blowin' down
The fireman with his long oil can oiling the old valve gears
Waiting for the fast mail train 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 taking up the slack
Gone today so they say tomorrow he'll be back

Oh, if I could return those boyhood days of mine
And that green light on the Southern
Southern Railroad line

Creepin' down the rusty rails of the weed grown branch line
The section houses gray and white by the yard limit sign
The hoggers call the old high ball, no more time to wait
Rolling down to Birmingham with a ten car local freight

The whistle scream with a hiss of steam, the headlight gleams clear
The drivers roll on the green and go getting mighty near
Handing up the orders to the engine crew on time
It's the Alabama Great Southern AGS Railroad line

Oh, if I could return those boyhood days of mine
And that green light on the Southern
Southern Railroad line