Mandolin Orange
Lonesome Whistle
All eyes out on the railroad
All eyes out on the sea
All these means of travel, darling
Mean nothing once your soul has been set free
Hear that lonesome whistle blowing
In the shadow of a sail
The winds are high and the tides are flowing
That high ball's rolling down the rail
Little redbird in the corner
There's a blackbird at the door
Lord I know if he should ever cross over
The blood would hit the floor
So hear that lonesome whistle blowing
Hear that engine cough and wine
See those black sails meet horizons
That old blackbird knows it's time
Harken, hear the angels humming
Six white horses set to run
My bones rattle between their rumbling
And the setting of the sun