Trains words & music by Bill Knipe
Sitting in a coffeehouse somewhere near the South Dakota border
Listening to the 9 o'clock train blowin' its whistle low and long
Into the cold night air, no one hears it but me
And no one cares about trains anymore
Wish I could be inside an empty box car movin' on
Just like the hobos did in 1933
Back in the time of black & whitebefore color was invented
Like the pictures on this coffeehouse wall
Wonderin' where I'll be tomorrow
When the 9 o'clock whistle blows
South and east of the Dakota border
In the suburbs of St. Paul
And it's cold up here in the North above the 45th parallel
And the train rolls on into the cold night air
Sittin in a coffeehouse somewhere near the Minnesota border
Listening to the 10 o'clock train blowin' its whistle low and long
Into the cold night air, no one hears it but me
And no one cares about trains anymore
Thinking 'bout a girl I left behind alone some time ago
Wondering if she found a boxcar heading south to take her home
And I know she likes to be left alone and quiet in the cold nite air
Listening to the 9 o'clock train whistle blow
