| G | |
| A long time ago in a town in Tennessee |
| A | D | |
| There lived a man and he was | great as he could | be |
| G | C | |
| By the sweat of his brow he | earned fortune and fame |
| D | G | |
| Casey Jones was his | name |
| From Memphis, Tennessee on that Cannonball Express |
| D | |
| By the wining of the whistle you could tell him from the | rest |
| Past the old plantations with their cotton and cane |
| D | G | |
| Casey Jones was his | name |
| Chorus |
| G | |
| Clickety-clack, clickety-clack over the rails he'd go |
| A | D | |
| Clickety-clack, clickety-clack | braving rain and | snow |
| G | C | |
| Ev'ryone knew three-eighty- | two was his train |
| D | G | |
| Casey Jones was his | name |
| Chorus:Instrumental |
| G | |
| Runnin' late thru Sardis past Winona on the fly |
| A | D | |
| Like lightnin' chasin' thunder | thru the stairways of the | sky |
| G | C | |
| When we heard his engine moanin' | and the story is claimed |
| D | G | |
| Casey Jones was his | name |
| G | |
| Then on that fatal night he made his final run |
| A | |
| Near Vaughan, Mississippi | he knew his time had come |
| G | C | |
| Too late he saw the head of | an old freight train |
| D | G | |
| Now a legend, Casey Jones was his | name |
| (Repeat chorus) |