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I saw the lights in your garden aflame as the great gates came a wailin'.
That locomotive wasn't loaded with sin, it was empty into the station.
They called her Blackfoot, they called her Iron Clad,
as the grey guards blew grey smoke into the grey day.
It be 9 hours fore they swung that light again,
fore they swung that great Blackfoot into the ages.
So I watched a girl I knew hold up her frightened hands
and say the great god knew just how to make 'em.
All of the morningbirds were flying round the steam
as they sang a little song with their expressions.
Not one among the men was brushing them aside,
they just raise their caps and watch the great migration.
It be the sun-filled nights before they flew again,
and they sang their great, grey song with great affection.
Just then a quarry man with shade across his eyes sang the great lord knew just how to make 'em.
I saw the Blue Streak gunnin' out of the sun, locomotive of the grey dawn.
All of the linemen holdin' up their mighty hands
sayin' the great lord knew just how to make 'em.
Yeah, the great lord knew just how to make 'em.