Arnold Wilson Writes

That train it keeps on rolling.

I wonder where you are.

I said that I was over it,

there’s still aching in my heart.

Whiskey and women are calling.

Late at night.

I can’t sleep,

Good women try to love me, I only push them away.

When I hear that train moan low I’m bound to go astray.

Mr. Daniels may be my only friend.

He’s faithful.

Again,

and again.

While the whiskey keeps me warm, I’m only growing colder.

The highways and the railways run around the bend,

I’m only getting older.

The train it keeps on rolling.