One day he went to get a bone
And left his little pal alone,
He crossed the coupling joints of a train that blocked the yard.
They switched a reefer off the main
And humped it into Boomer's train;
He fell and died beneath the iron wheels so cold and hard.
Final Chorus: The black smoke choo-choo's gone away,
Bummin' it's just not the same;
Dreams are few and far between but memories seldom fail.
If there's a place from some old friend
Who waits until the journey's end.
Then Boomer he'll be glad to see old "Queen of the Rails".
Copyright ©1973, 2000 Bruce Phillips