Down the mountainside To the coastline Past the angry tide The mighty diesel whines. And the tunnel comes And the tunnel goes Round another bend The giant drivers roll. I rode the Highball I fired the Daylight When I turned sixty-five I couldn't see right. It was Mr. Jones, We've got to let you go It's company policy You've got a pension though. Roll on, Southern Pacific On your silver rails On your silver rails Roll on, Southern Pacific On your silver rails Through the moonlight. I put in my time I put in my time Now I'm left to roll Down the long decline. I ain't no brake man Ain't no conductor But I would be though If I was younger. Roll on, Southern Pacific On your silver rails On your silver rails Roll on, Southern Pacific Roll on, on your silver rails.