Cliff Carlisle - vocal


One cold and dreary afternoon, I just left the jail

Waiting for the evening train, the Pan American mail

Hear the engine moan and groan, rambling thru the land

I'll swing aboard that cannonball, I'm a Pan American Man




Here she comes right down the line, see that old smoke stack

Hear the popping of the rails, Boy she's Ballin' the Jack

The rails are slick, the engineers used up all his sand

But I'll ride her till she leaves the rail, I'm a Pan American Man




I may miss my footing boys, when she passes by

If I do, I'll meet you way up in the sky

I'll do my best boys, to swing her if I can

I have never failed to ride, I'm a Pan American Man




Through the land she rambles, while the farmers watch the coal

It will make you dizzy boys, to watch those drivers roll

I'm leaving you now boys, but I'm coming back again

This same old train will bring me back, I'm a Pan American Man