Wreck Of The Old 97

They gave him his orders
 At Monroe, Virginia
 Sayin' Pete you're way behind time
 This is not '38, but its old '97
 You must put her into Spencer on time
 He looked round an' said
 To his black, greasy fireman
 Jus' shove on in a lil' more coal
 And when we cross that wide old mountain
 You can watch old '97 roll
 It's a mighty rough road
 From Lynchburg to Danville
 In a line on a three mile grade
 It was on that grade
 That he lost his airbrake
 And you see what a jump he made
 He was goin' down the grade
 Makin' ninety miles an hour
 When his whistle broke into a scream
 He was found in the wreck
 With his hand on the throttle
 And a scalded to death by the steam
 Now ladies you must take warnin'
 From this time now and on
 Never speak harsh words
 To your true love and husband
 He may leave you and never return