Текст песни
In my early days of singing I did folk songs, and tragic songs
And this was one of my favorites when I used to do concerts all alone in college
First one placed, then another one when I was called to take the guitar, play and sing
That's the best way to do folk songs, just with the guitar
Then you can use any meter you want to, out of time, out of meter
Stop, and talk for a minute, start again
That's the way I used to like to do tunes
This is a song coming from The Hills of Kentucky in the coal-mining country
They used to bring out these dinky little trains, you know
They were always jumping the track and this is the story of one of them
It's The Wreck of the Number Nine
One dark stormy night not a star was in sight
The North wind came howling down the line
There stood a brave engineer with his sweetheart so dear
And his orders to pull old Number Nine
She kissed him goodbye with a tear in her eye
The joy in his heart he couldn't hide
The whole world seemed right, for she told him that night
That tomorrow she'd be his blushing bride
The wheels hummed a song as the train rolled along
The black smoke came pouring from the stack
The headlight a-gleam seemed to brighten his dream
Of tomorrow when he'd be goin' back
He sped around the hill and his brave heart stood still
The headlight was shining in his face
He whispered a prayer as he threw on the air
For he knew this would be his final race
In the wreck he was found lying there on the ground
He asked them to raise his weary head
His breath slowly went as this message he sent
To a maiden who thought she would be wed
"There's a little white home that I built for our own
Where I dreamed we'd be happy, you and I
But I leave it to you, for I know you'll be true
'Til we meet at the Golden Gate, goodbye"