& His

THE LITTLE RED CABOOSE BEHIND THE TRAIN
 

I am growing old and weary

And my sight is getting dim

I have laid my links and pins away to rust

And the only friend that's left to me

In this wide world to stand

Is the Little Red Caboose Behind The Train.

Oh, I'm growing old and feeble now

     And my sight is getting dim

     And I cannot see those signals anymore

     I can hear those whistles blowing

     And I know I'll soon be going

     To a better home I know that, far away.

There are young ones coming on

It is time for me to go

They'll be pestered with the rain, the sleet and snow

And they'll find a heap of trouble

When those hills they have to double

With the Little Red Caboose Behind The Train
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