Ole Eighty Seven
Ole Eighty-seven, rugged and vain,
Serpentine on cold iron rails,
Story filled with strength and pain,
A legendary iron horse tale.
World-renowned freight train of yesteryear,
Lives ever in glory and fame,
A roaring chain without peers,
Ole Eighty-seven, her hailed nickname.
An expression of past golden days,
Its piercing whistle wailed and cried,
In early morn misty haze,
Slithering down the steep mountainside.
Ole Eighty-seven, out of control,
Its air brakes without warning failed,
Hauling a load of black gold,
Down a steep and twisting mountain grade.
Engine to last car, forthwith long gone,
Fondly evoked through song and pen,
Derailed on its final run,
Bringing the end to an idolized train.
Ole Eighty-seven, strong and able,
Railway giant of nobility,
Mayhap as fact and fable,
Railway saga of antiquity.
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