Wreck Of The Old Ninety -Seven

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Well, they gave him his orders in Monroe, Virginia
Saying Steve you are way behind time
This is not thirty eight, but it’s old ninety seven
You must put her into Spencer on time

He turned and said to his tired greasy fireman
Shovel on a little more coal
And when we cross the White Oak Mountain
You can watch old Ninety-Seven roll

It’s a mighty rough road from Lynchburg to Danville
On a line on a three mile grade
It was on this grade that he lost his leverage
You can see what a jump he made

He was going down the grade making ninety miles an hour
When his whistle broke into a scream
They found him in the wreck with his hand on the throttle
He was scalded to death by the steam

Now all you ladies you must take warning
From this time now on learn
Never speak harsh words to your true loving husband
He may leave you and never return