The train whistle let out its low moan
as it passed by the old house
It was a cargo freight carrying goods
across the land

The small boy inside sat still and
listened
He loved the sound and dreamed
about where the trains were going
How he wished he could be on
one of them

His life here was so dull
and he longed for some adventure
Oh, to ride the cars to San Francisco
where his uncle lived or someplace
like Alaska with its mountains covered
in snow

He could see himself helping to unload
cargo and then drinking hot coffee
with the workmen on the train
He had a birthday coming up
That would make him Ten years old
Big enough to do as he pleased
he thought
Then he would tell his Mother he
was going
That he was born to ride the rails