| A | A | A | A | A | |
| Well, I | ride on a mail train, baby | , | can't buy a | thrill |
| A | A | A | A | |
| I been | up all night, | leanin' on the window | sill |
| A | A/G | D | E | E | |
| Well, | if I | die on | top of the | hill |
| A | A | A | |
| Well, if | I don't make it mama, | you know my baby | will |
| Don't the moon look good mama, shinin' through the trees |
| Don't the brakemen look good mama, flaggin' down the double E's |
| Don't the sun look good goin' down over the sea |
| But don't my gal look fine when she's comin' after me |
| Now the wintertime is coming, the windows are filled with frost |
| I went to tell everybody, but I could not get across |
| I wanna be your lover baby, I don't wanna be your boss |
| Don't say I never warned you when your train gets lost |