The Ghost Train
On top a mountain a legend was born
Of a train, whose whistle still blows
Tho there's not been tracks for a hundred years
This train, somehow still goes
They call it the ghost train, its final run
For it crashed on that mountain they say
Carrying lumber to the valley below
And many were killed that day
Its whistle still heard night after night
As the wind still beckons her cries
Voices still heard in the darkness so clear
And the screams of everyone who dies
Twenty-one souls were lost that day
As they plunged to their certain demise
The faint smell of blood in clouds of smoke
Still fill the mountain skies
A sign was erected, to remember the lost
Their names, were written in white
They wander the mountain, trying to get home
Destined, to relive that night
Some say that it's only a legend
But I know the story is true
For each time I take my family camping
We hear that train whistle too
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