The Log Train

If you will listen, a song I will sing About my daddy who drove a log train Way down in the southland, in old Alabama We lived in a place that they call Chapmantown And late in the evening, when the sun was low Way off in the distance you could hear the train blow The folks would come runnin', and Moma would say "Get the supper on the table, here comes the log train" Every mornin', at the break of day He'd grab his lunchbucket, and be on his way Winter or summer, sunshine or rain Every mornin', he'd run that ole log train A sweatin' an swearin' all day long Shoutin', "Get up there oxen, keep movin' along Load her up boys, 'cause it looks like rain I've gotta get rollin', this ole log train" This story happened, a long time ago The log train is silent, God called Dad to go But when I get to Heaven, ta always remain I'll listen to the whistle of the ole log train