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.