The Wreck of the Old 97
They (A)gave him his orders at (D)Monroe, Virginia,
Sayin' "(A)Steve, you're (B7) way behind (E7)time
It's (A7)not thirty-eight, and it's the (D)Old 97
Gotta (A)put her into Danville (E7)on (A)time."
Chorus:
Well, it's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg down to Danville,
On a line with a three-mile grade
It was down that line where he lost his air-brakes
You can see what a jump he made.
Steve Brady he said to his black, greasy fireman,
"Shovel on a little more coal
I'm waitin' to pass them wide-open mountains
Gonna see the Old 97 roll."
(Chorus)
He's comin' down that line makin' ninety miles an hour
The whistle broke into a scream
They found him in the wreck with his hand upon the throttle
He'd been scolded to death by steam.
(Chorus)
Well, come on now, all you ladies
From this time on, now learn
Don't you ever say harsh words to your true-lovin' husband
He'll leave you and never return.
(Chorus)
Well, he's comin' down that line makin' ninety miles an hour
And the whistle broke into a scream
They found him in the wreck with his hand upon the throttle
He'd been scolded to death by steam.
Still
Seeking the Seekers After All These Years 
